Please Hold
by Danger-immn
Summary: Now with a new author name. Sookie is dealing with some massive upheavals in her life when she gets a job with the infamous and controlling Eric Northman. Office romance with some twists and kinks later  - AH/AU M-rating now in play – E/S eventually...
1. Chapter 1

**Please Hold - Chapter One**

**Author's note: This is my first attempt at a fanfic after years of reading. It's an All Human/Alternate Universe story. I've taken plenty of liberties with Ms. Harris's characters – but I will unfortunately never own them. I don't have any idea of speed/length or timeliness of updates. I would love feedback.**

**

* * *

**As I waited for my interview, I repeated my inner mantra: _D__on't be nervous, the worst thing that can happen is you don't get a job you don't have_. I took a deep breath as I flipped through my slim – and mostly empty – portfolio. Résumés – check. Certificates and Transcripts – check. Questions for the interview – check. First day questions (just in case) – check. I had checked my hair and face in the ladies room prior to coming into the office and a quick slide of my finger in the side pocket of my bag confirmed that I had not lost Amelia's keys. She had insisted that I take her safer (more reliable) car to the interview. I decided that it wasn't a battle I wanted to fight. I had turned off my cell phone in the car as well – rather than look like a crackberry addict like the girl next to me or fidgety like the girl across the waiting room. I set my portfolio in my lap, crossed my ankles, folded my hands, and took a look around.

The waiting room was nice – anyone could tell it was for important clients not like a doctor's office where I always feel like a head of cattle in a feed lot. I had arrived early and the lady at the desk had noted the time – so I was glad I had. Fortunately, there was a clock across the room so I didn't have to keep checking my watch. I tried to suppress my smile at the easy listening version of "Fernando" playing softly in the background. I knew "there was something in the air that night…" would be running through my head for days.

Six months ago, if you had told me I would be in a conservative suit featuring a navy blue pencil skirt and pumps in the office of Ravenscroft, Northman, and Davis Consolidated Holdings – New Orleans Branch, I would have laughed until I cried. I was finishing my associate degree so I could work in my then fiancés offices as a receptionist for his surveying company. It was amazing how much your life can change in the blink of an eye or in a skipped heartbeat. I closed my eyes willing the memory of squealing tires and a bloodstained white dress away.

"Ms. Stackhouse-Herveaux? Mr. Northman will see you now." A red-head with too much makeup smiled at me from beside the reception desk. Grateful at least to be freed from walking down that particular memory lane, I popped up from my seat with a smile and a small wave as I scooped up my bag from the floor. As I strode (Amelia had made me practice my power walk for the past few days – my landlord is insane!) across the room, I dropped my portfolio into my bag – shifting it to my left hand. As I got closer to her, I noticed she had a smiley-spacey look to her. She smiled and held out her hand, "I'm Ginger – follow me please".

I smiled as I shook her hand, "I'm Sookie."

She turned and swayed her way airily through the large oak double doors. We walked down a corridor of desks with serious young men and women busily whispering into phones and typing on keyboards. I had read that the CEO was Swedish so I had a vision of high end IKEA style office furniture. I was pleasantly surprised by the subdued dark wood with high shine marble floors. As I clicked along behind Ginger I tried to not become slack jawed. We paused at an elevator with a security guard standing not far away. The elevator dinged and we stepped in. There were only two buttons: L & E. Ginger explained, "This is the direct-express elevator to the executive floor. Usually we use the main elevators, but the accounting firm on the fourth floor is remodeling and it takes forever right now. They should be done tomorrow though."

The elevator opened on an open area decorated similarly to the office downstairs. There was a severe looking older lady behind a central desk, and two other unoccupied desks beside the double doors on each side of the open area. There was another pair of closed doors in the center of the opposite wall. I stood next to Ginger hoping she would take the lead. The angry librarian looking lady raised her eyebrows looking me over once and turning her piercing gaze on Ginger.

"Um, this is Ms. Stackhouse-Herveaux. She's Mr. Northman's nine-thirty interview." Ginger seemed flustered and rushed words out of her mouth. I tried to smile. It may or may not have come out as what my brother Jason calls my "crazy Sookie grin."

"Stay where you are. I will see if Mr. Northman is ready for you. Ginger, here are the project binders we need made for tomorrow's meeting – have them copied, collated, and placed in binders before you leave tonight." Angry Librarian handed her a two inch stack of papers.

"Y-yes ma'am, Ms. Flanagan, of course." Ginger seemed to stagger under the weight of the pile and slipped into the still waiting elevators. As I watched her disappear behind the sliding doors, I realized the Librarian – I mean Ms. Flanagan – had already moved to the double doors to the left, softly knocked and moved inside, allowing the door to close. I didn't want her mad at me, so I didn't move from the spot.

After what seemed like hours – at least to my toes in these shoes – she reappeared, "You may go in now." She held the door as I walked past her, letting it close behind me. I tried not to jump at the thunk of the heavy oak door. I turned and looked across the office with an expansive leather topped desk and giant standing behind the desk.

"Ms. Stackhouse-Herveaux – do have a seat." I tried my best to neither catch flies nor drool as I slipped/stumbled into the straight backed leather chair in front of his desk. _How did I end up here_?

* * *

**Like it? Hate it? Should I bother with more? Let me know! Also, I have no beta, so volunteers would be welcome – I'm a good proofreader, but it's always easier to work on someone else's work. Happy St. Patrick's Day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Please Hold – Chapter 2**

**I'm so excited about my responses – aside from a total fail with fanfic where I managed to lock myself out of my account, the reviews & story alerts made my day! Someone from Luxemburg read my story – the world is insanely small sometimes – I love it! I still have no beta and I still do not own anything that Ms. Harris created.**

**FYI - I think this story will end up being flashback heavy in the beginning – easing off as our dear Sookie learns to live in the present. And away we go…**

* * *

Three years earlier…

Gran woke me up extra early. We needed to finish up our baking and get to the opening of the new public library and the community center. It was quite an accomplishment –the Friends of the Bon Temps Library along with the Glorious Descendants, the Rotary, and the Kiwanis had managed to raise enough money to build the new facility without a bond or any other loans. Gran and I felt especially proud because we convinced my brother Jason and the rest of his county road crew to donate the time to carve out and pave the driveway and parking lot (The Library Friends Fund only had enough to pay for raw materials and the diesel to run the big machinery). It may have cost us the double their weight in fried chicken with all the fixings, but it was amazing that it got done – I think it was Gran's pecan pie alone that had them level the gravel in a side lot to serve as overflow parking without (much) asking.

Gran was in her element – we had cakes and cookies ready to go. Her big coffee pot was polished up and packed in the back of her car. I had put in for the day off weeks ago with my boss, Sam Merlotte, from his bar and grill. I might have to go in for the dinner shift – I liked to avoid that, but I understood that I had to be flexible to get out of the lunch rush that was sure to happen. The Library was just down the road a piece from the restaurant and everyone would be there to chat it up after the grand opening ceremony.

I don't want to say that Bon Temps is lame – maybe just sleepy.

Anyhow – Sam had talked some of the evening shift girls into coming in early, but I'd have to cover for someone tonight. Usually Sam was real good about keeping me on the day shift so I'd be home in time to help Gran with dinner and other chores around the house. Some women may be ashamed of still living in their family homes at my age – twenty three – but Gran wouldn't let me help out with bills or groceries if I moved away. She only let Jason help out with the _man chores _because he pitched so many fits about being _the man of the family_ and _stubborn Stackhouse suffragettes (suffering succotash!)_. Jason had no idea what a suffragette was, but I for one was grateful that he didn't use a different s-word – Gran would've boxed his ears.

I had on a new pair of khaki pants from the Target over in Monroe with my sleeveless white blouse that Gran had starched enough to stand up on its own. She had on her nicest non-church dress – with pretty blue lupines scattering across the folds. We crawled into the car and made our way with all our treats to the Library. We didn't bring cake – heaven knows no recipe can compete with Mrs. Fortenberry's and she wasn't going to miss the opportunity to show off. If you ask me, Gran's pies were a cut above any old cake, but no one ever asks me. We got in early enough to park in the paved parking lot. Some of the young men from the high school's Key club helped us carry our things inside.

Jason had asked me a hundred times if I was coming if he asked me once. I had no idea why. Most times, it seems like Jason would prefer it if I never left the house and if I did, I should be wearing ten petticoats over my iron chastity belt. Not exactly the ideal situation for a girl to get a date – ever – in this or the three surrounding parishes. While I'd never admit it, I love that my brother likes to look after me – nor did his over-protectiveness make a difference – I'm the biggest shyest wallflower this side of Monroe.

Needless to say, I was a little surprised after the ribbon cutting and sparkling cider toast when Jason came barreling up. With a man. A Mountain of Man. Possibly the best looking Man I'd ever seen aside from TV or the movies.

"Hey Sook – I want to introduce you to a friend'a mine." Jason grinned at me.

I looked up at this gorgeous man as he looked down at me. "Hello, I'm Alcide Herveaux."

I think my eyes crossed and my knees definitely wobbled. "S-Sookie Stackhouuu…!" I'm a little blurry on the details, other than my glass of punch landing on his shirt as my chin impacted his belt buckle – and forcing my teeth shut around my tongue. The pain from that was only slightly duller than the streaks of heat shooting up from my right calf. I closed my eyes and I just knew I would need stitches somewhere.

* * *

(Back to life – Back to reality)

"Ms. Herveaux! Ms. Stackhouse-Herveaux! Please tell me you are not wool gathering thirty seconds into this interview." Mr. Northman's voice bellowed across the room. My eyes went wide. Thank goodness that memories flash through the mind much faster than the reality of living them.

"No sir! I'm sorry – I'm not really Mrs. Herveaux. I mean I –"

"What?" The roar from the blond giant looming over his desk was deafening.

"I mean I my husband died before I had a chance to change my name. I decided it would be less painful to stay a Stackhouse. I'm not sure who told you I was Ms. Stackhouse-Herveaux, but I'm not." I gasped out – waiting for another scathing reprimand.

His chiseled jaw snapped shut as his eyes went wide for the briefest smidge of time. He quickly looked down and cleared his throat. His voice was rougher than most, but not the gruff purr of Alicide's, "I apologize Ms. Stackhouse. I can understand why it would be difficult to answer to a new name, especially one so painful. The woman who recommended you said you were Mr. Alcide Herveaux's widow; the assumption that was made is obvious along with veracity of the cliché regarding the wisdom of those who assume."

"Quite, well, it was an honest mistake – I'm sorry if I was abrupt. Perhaps I was woolgathering. It seems that life sometimes my own life can move faster than the speed of thought." My jaw snapped shut with a click when I realized what I had said – _how to blow an interview in 42 seconds or less…_

"I think when emotions are high or while woolgathering, automatic mouth gets to everyone on occasion. Do you find it a problem under normal circumstances?"

_Ah, the interview begins_. "No Sir, if anything, I usually err on the side of too quiet."

"That's good to know. My last secretary resigned suddenly – if you are selected, when will you be able to start?"

And so the normal interview questions with the normal slightly sycophantic answers ensued.

What I couldn't shake amongst the "What are your greatest strengths?" "How can you use your weaknesses to your advantage?" and my own "What does your company's benefit package include?" was THE Feeling. THE Feeling that let ran throughout my nerve endings even before Alcide had even touched my hand all those years ago. THE Feeling that I felt slightly guilty for being even stronger than that summer day in the parking lot my brother helped pave.

* * *

**Want to give feedback and don't know where to start? Try these questions on for size: Do you ever feel guilty for ranking your relationships? Are flashbacks a good way to explore characters or do you wish things just were told in order? Do you have guilty pleasures in cheesy music? I think I may need to have a cheesy music reference in every chapter. Any suggestions? I won't hate – Hootie & the Blowfish helped me get through losing a parent.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Please Hold – Chapter 3**

**Author's Note: Thanks for the feedback – I've responded to all the reviews I could for people with private messages, but I'm not entirely sure how this stuff works. One reviewer asked about EPOV and there will be bits and pieces, but not more than that for a while at least. I don't feel confident writing a man's perspective, especially an alpha male's (like Eric) perspective. Just to let you all know, my Eric is probably not too much of a stretch in this story, but Sookie will be a mixed bag of Ms. Harris's stubborn, ladylike character, with some twists to make her fit into my story. Regardless – I own nothing! Thanks for your time. (The actual meat of this chapter is over 2000 words – go me!) **

* * *

I pulled Amelia's car carefully into the driveway. I picked up my shoes and bag, vigilantly locking both doors. She at least waited until I was half way to the house before bursting through the front door, running out to drag me to her apartment on the ground floor.

"How did it go? Did you get the job? Why do you look so tired? What took so long? Why aren't you wearing your shoes?" Did I mention my insane friend and landlady had no mind-mouth brakes – If she thinks it, it's coming out of her mouth before the thought is complete. "Did you..."

I threw my hands up to stop her. "If I've told you once, I've told you twice, I'd be happy to submit to your cross-examination but give me a chance to answer your questions. I would love a coffee too by the way." I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms – I've learned that you have to set up ground rules and boundaries immediately with her. Amelia at least looked a bit sheepish as she closed the door and lead the way to her too clean kitchen to start the coffee.

"Fine, but expect to be treated as a hostile witness if you hold back – even a smidgen." She huffed and winked.

"Duly noted" I grinned at her – she really might expire from curiosity, but she was trying to wait for the coffee to brew. After of a few moments of silence, I took pity on her and blurted, "I got the job – they started training me today after a long, strange interview."

The kettle whistled and I turned to pour it through the set up filter and grounds into Amelia's large, modern (read: abstract and strange) coffee pot. I smiled to myself – _when had I ever had as good a friend as good as her?_

* * *

Four months prior...

Gran was trying to get me out of bed and moving… I'd had to sell the house that Alcide and I were to live in – There was no way I'd be able to make the mortgage payments. So I'd returned home to her. She welcomed me with hugs and a strong shoulder to sob on – for about three days. Today the tough love began. She did warn me last night and I knew she was right, but it didn't mean reality was any more appealing in the bright morning sunshine.

I pretty much broke even on the house – getting it sold quickly in this weak market without having to make a short sale was a blessing. The truck had been a total loss – but I did get some insurance money and he also had a very modest life insurance policy. I decided to bank it into my when-you-figure-out-what-you're-going-to-do-now-that-your-life-is-over fund. At least that's what I called it in my head – Gran would probably thrash me for thinking that kind of thought out loud.

I dragged myself out of bed – fighting with the rubber band in my hair for a minute before I finally ripped it free. Usually I would cringe at the sound of my hair breaking, but I couldn't find the strength to care. I shed my clothes as I waited for the bath water to run hot. It only took a couple minutes – shivering in the cold tile room before I stepped under the sub-nuclear heat of the shower spray. I shampooed, rinsed, and repeated – three days of bed head takes effort to work out. As I left the conditioner in my hair, I scrubbed the few days of built up grime from my body. I blew my nose and washed my face twice and just stood in the spray until I could feel the heat in the water starting to fade. I knew from experience how quickly it would turn to glacial.

I got myself dressed enough to go help Gran with the last of the fall gardening and yard cleanup – Old jeans, old sneakers, and my old softball jersey from Bon Temps High. Gran met me at the bottom of the stairs with a smile and huge steaming cup of coffee. Gran prattled on about the cheesy grits that were waiting with bacon and toast. I followed her into our cheerful old kitchen and sat down to the mouthwatering Southern spread. I had just put the first spoonful of grits in my mouth when there was a loud knock from the front door. I jumped and looked at Gran – narrowing my eyes at her – I wasn't ready for company. Jason was coming by later, but he didn't count – he would have come in the back door through the kitchen anyhow. I wiped the look off my face when I saw the look on Gran's face and realized she was in her roughest gardening clothes too. No way was she expecting anyone either. We both shrugged, stood, and walked to the front door – peeking through a side window. There was a man – a rather round man in a very nice suit. There was a limo parked in front of the porch. I had a feeling he wasn't here to tell us that we'd won the publisher's clearing house prize.

Gran cleared her throat put a pleasant smile on her face and opened the door. "May I help you?"

The circular man introduced himself as Mr. Cataliades, an estate lawyer from New Orleans. Gran and I just continued to stare at him – clueless. We didn't know anyone in New Orleans, certainly no one that would have need for or be able to afford an estate lawyer wearing a suit like that with obviously expensive shoes. I worked in a restaurant for years – it's pretty easy to tell things about men especially by their shoes. This man's screamed expensive and conservative at the same time.

He cleared his throat. "Are you Sookie Stackhouse?" He asked, looking at me.

"Um… yes, oh where have my manners gone! – I'm Sookie Stackhouse and this in my Gran – Ms. Adele Stackhouse. Would you like to have a seat?" I pointed to the porch swing – lawyer with fancy shoes or no, he didn't need to come into the house.

Gran asked if she could get him a drink. He declined and requested that we sit. Not wanting to argue, and slightly (morbidly) curious, we dropped down on the swing.

"I have some bad news I'm afraid. It's you cousin, Hadley Delahoussaye – I suppose that also makes her your granddaughter." Gran nodded. "It took us some time to track down her family. She left everything she had to you Miss Stackhouse."

So that was it – she was dead. Gran turned to me, "I'm not going to watch those stories on TV anymore. The Horton's and Luke and Laura don't have anything on this family." I knew she was in shock and still processing so I chose not to comment. Instead I turned to Mr. Cataliades and waited for him to explain. Gran hadn't been far off – Hadley certainly surrounded herself with drama from the time she was a teenager and just kept going until she died – over three months ago. I felt less guilty about not inviting her to the wedding – she wouldn't have been able to attend. I scolded myself for think so ill of the dead. I also wondered if she knew what happened to her mother, Aunt Linda. I wondered why she would have left me anything. She never did get along with me – she had always seemed so resentful. Gran seemed to be taking this well. I think we had both assumed that she had died years ago sucked in by the glamour of drugs and money. At least it seemed that she'd found some happiness for a short time. Maybe that's why we both so calm. That or maybe our lives were far more shocking than we ever thought they would be and we were becoming a bit callous. I was snapped out of my reverie by Gran's question. "What do you mean she has an apartment with a lease paid for the next five years?"

"The surviving family members from the, ahem, other involved persons felt it important that all financial obligations Ms. Delahoussaye had taken on should be honored and fulfilled. She did not have a vehicle – hers was damaged during the levee breaks and while she did have her insurance paid out, but she had not yet replaced it. The expense of the rent and utilities for the apartment has been placed in trust. You have options with that – you could use the property of course, you could sublet it, or you could sell the lease. Regardless of your decision, you'll need to contact the owner and landlord – a Miss Amelia Broadway. I'll be in Shreveport for a few days. Here is your documentation of the estate. You were to be the executor, but as we couldn't find you, I acted in your stead. Please let me know if you have any questions. You will also find Miss Broadway's contact information here as well."

I thanked him, shook his hand, and walked with him to his car. He introduced me to his driver, a young woman called Gladiola, explaining that she was also his niece. She spoke so fast that listening to her gave me the edges of a headache – her outfit didn't help, but she seemed cheerful and kind.

Gran and I went in – silently clearing our full breakfast plates into the garbage – the news was all we could digest.

Four days later I met Amelia.

* * *

I was still rubbing my ears – trying to get out the shriek that Amelia let loose (far louder than the kettle). "Really Sookie? I'm so excited for you. You already started? How is it – super stuffy? Dull? What's this Mr. Northman like? A stodgy old square?" I think if she tried to hold still she might explode right now.

I pointed my eyes to the ceiling, shook my head, and rolled my neck while stretching. "Yes really. I got the job and started today. I took my shoes off because my feet hurt and I didn't want the heels to get scuffed in the car. I'll have to get a pair of sneakers to walk back and forth. Do you mind taking me tomorrow morning? It seems interesting. The keeper of the kingdom is the office manager, Mrs. Flanagan. She's very centered on manners and decorum – I think that may have been the clincher for getting me the job. I could give her Miss Manners answers. They even made me take mock calls from difficult clients."

"Of course I can drive you tomorrow, hell, just take my car – Octavia can pick me up on the way to the boutique like she did today. I just didn't want to jinx you by telling you that this morning. So – now tell me about this boss of yours. This Northman – is he ancient? Are you going to handle being cooped up with an old codger?"

I took a deep breath. "No – Mr. Northman is not ancient – I'd guess he's around 28. His dad had a heart attack a year or so ago and his son took over for him."

Amelia is a human lie detector. She can sniff out an abridgement faster than a beagle finds illegal fruit in an airport. I was sick about this. "And….?"

"He's the best looking man I've ever seen. And I've never felt so guilty before in my whole life, not even when I helped Jason steal Gran's Thanksgiving pecan pie when I was nine. But this is the perfect job for me and he seems to think I'm a little bit of a basket case. I think I got the job – like I said for my etiquette knowledge and because of that crazy recommendation I got from that Claudine woman we met at Nordstrom's." I finally let the stress of the day release when I burst into tears.

* * *

Across town – while Sookie sobbed with Amelia….

A man with the same color blond hair shook his head and let his head hit the desk with a rather loud and echoing thud. _What had his Godmother gotten him into now?_

* * *

**So – a little bit longer chapter – this is going to run like a soap opera for a while Gran's not wrong about the drama in the Stackhouse clan and I haven't decided what I'll do with Jason yet. Then the slow burn between Sookie and Eric really builds. Their relationship is going to be a little nontraditional – maybe more than a little. **

**While I admit I will probably just write what flows best, but would order would you prefer to see the following events? (They are listed in chronological order)**

*** More of Alcide & Sookie's first meeting**

*** Sookie and Amelia's first meeting**

*** THE interview**

**I just want to feel out my readers' priorities. Hadley's final night will be expanded on – but not in the next chapter. **

**Also – please enjoy the frequent updates – Spring Break is over in a couple days and the daily grind will probably slow things down. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Please Hold – Chapter Four**

**Author's Notes – Thank you again for your time. Here's a little more of first meetings with our favorite men…Though Ms. Harris really controls their destinies. **

Three years earlier…

Since it was a big event, all of the local EMT's and Volunteer Firefighters that were on duty were at the grand opening of the library. Lucky, lucky me…

Apparently, Betty Joe Pickard was chasing that smarmy Steve Newlin kid. Not that I blame her, he was telling her that Baptists like her didn't have the spirit like his Pentecostals did. If that wasn't directly from his mother Sarah's mouth, I was Ganesha. At least she'd let him off the leash enough to have a corn dog – unfortunately, he staked my upper right calf running away from the seething and sprinting Betty Joe. As he jumped up, he caught the little picket on his clothes and it ripped up and out. He looked down at my leg, promptly burst into tears – tearing off to find his mother I'm sure. Betty Joe just stood there slack jawed.

I was relieved it was only me that was hurt – I'd be fine in a few days and it'd be a shame for Man Mountain – I mean Alcide – to have been marred. It took me a full minute to realize where and how I'd ended up. My face was pressed into a warm firm cloth coated wall of abdominal muscle my hands were firmly planted on strong pectoral muscles. The cup of punch I'd been holding had deposited its contents all over his shirt. He'd have to throw it out – nothing can get out the stains of Elva Deene Lancaster's punch. It was permanently delicious. My chest was squashed to his thighs and my wounded leg lay across his. Half a millisecond later I was pushing myself up – trying to keep my weight on my hands and my left knee – keeping my right leg relaxed seemed an imperative. I felt warm iron bands scoop me up and turn me. He didn't seem to know where to look first – my bloody mouth or my damaged leg – as he set me in his lap.

I think that was the moment I knew he was it. I felt protected and cared for – feminine and slim – pretty and powerful even though I was bleeding heavily. Maybe because I was bleeding heavily. I turned away from those green eyes and got a good look at my leg wound very visible through the large rip in my new chinos…and promptly fainted.

* * *

I came to by being shaken – looking into those green eyes. I could hear Gran scolding Jason – did he really try to slap me awake? I was lying on my left side on the gurney in an ambulance. Alcide had a hand on my shoulder and laid his face on the edge of the stretcher while he awkwardly squatted by the mobile bed.

"Good morning sunshine – you sure spooked me!" he grumbled. His voice soothed my raw nerves and made me smile a little. "The EMT's want to know if you want a ride in their big box or if someone else can take you to the urgent care clinic on the way to Monroe…"

"I don' wan do wide wid dem." I blushed at my sloppy speech. Alcide didn't bat an eye.

"Ok chère, they slapped a bandage on your leg so you're not bleeding all over everything, but I don't want you walking – I'll carry you over to my truck. Your brother can bring your Gran along behind." He scooped my up – Rhett Butler style and nodded his thanks to the uniformed man beside the ambulance. I was sure Gran would know who it was so I could send a thank you note and some kind of baked-good his way.

By this time, Sarah Newlin had come rushing over – looking slightly hysterical. "What can I do to help?"

"Tell us where to send the doctor bills," Jason snapped.

She sniffed and nodded. Fortunately I was mostly shielded from her view, so I rolled my eyes while Alcide hid his snicker. Gran stopped to chastise Jason and thank Sarah as Alcide continue onto his truck. It was beautiful – big, black, shining with whispers of chrome.

As he opened the back door and lowered me down with the tenderness of a mama bird, Jason, Gran, and, of course, Ms. Sarah Newlin, caught up asking where we were going.

"The EMT said the urgent care place would be able to fix her up just as well and probably quicker than the ER." I also knew it would be cheaper and was grateful for that – I wasn't about to send a single mother my medical bills – Jason or no Jason.

"My cousin is an LVN over there – I'll run call her so they're ready for you." Sarah popped off.

"Danks Sawah," She turned back, nodding with a smile.

* * *

Two stitches in my tongue, fourteen in my calf, and a couple of small bandages on my chin where I'd hit it against Alcide's belt buckle. The doctor insisted I take the next forty-eight hours off work with NO talking. After we got all the directions, we were waiting alone in the small suture room for Gran and Jason as well as my discharge paperwork. Alcide – who had been so kind – holding my hand and murmuring support in my ear as he kept me grounded through the shots and the stitches leaned over and asked, "I wish you could say something – you're ears will probably fall off with all the talking I've done today. How about you give me your cell number and I'll call you the minute your forty-eight hour muteness is up?"

I shook my head – reaching for the pad of paper the nurse had brought me. Alcide had turned away and was nodding his head. "Sure no problem – I just had to at least try."

I smacked his arm and pointed to the pen that had fallen to the floor. He handed it back to me. I scribbled furiously.

_I don't have a cell phone. _

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize…do you have a number I can call you at then?"

_I imagine I'll be at home for the next few days._ I scribbled down the number, tore off the page, and handed it to him. He looked like he had just won at BINGO night at the VFW Hall. He ducked his head to hide his smile. "Thanks chère"

_No problem. _

Apparently Gran's and Jason's vehicles were a blocked into that beautiful paved parking lot – Jason's four-wheel-drive got them out eventually. They rushed into the room just as Alcide had opened his mouth to say something else.

"I can't thank you enough Mr. Herveaux – goodness knows we could have gotten her to the hospital, but you sure made all this a lot easier." Was Gran gushing? Maybe the Vicodin was kicking in.

The nurse – Sarah's cousin as it turned out – came in then and went back over all the directions as I filled out the final forms for my billing information. Jason carried back out of the clinic this time – but there was more room in Alcide's truck so I was put in there and driven home. I was already a little loopy, so I decided to fall asleep before I threw up or said something stupid.

I woke up to Alcide gently setting me down on the comfy old worn couch in the living room of my home. When I was set up with the remote and a snack, Alcide quickly made his goodbyes – saving a small bow, a wink, and a smile just for me.

* * *

My boss, Sam, really understood about the whole mess, insisting I take off for at least the next three days. He even came by Gran's house that afternoon to check on me. I spent the next two days mostly lounging on the couch, until the second afternoon when the temperature spiked into the eighties and I decided to lie out and get a few last rays of sun before the dreary winter set in. I was drifting between daydreams and real dreams when I heard Gran calling my name.

"Sookie! Sookie – you have a phone call!" She hollered from the back porch. I jumped up and walked as quickly as I could back to the house. The stitches in my leg didn't bother me much until I tried to rush around. I took the proffered phone from my Gran who was grinning like she won laundry service for life and cleared my throat. "Sookie? Is that you? Can you talk yet?" I hear Alcide rumble through the line.

My voice sounded a little rougher and slower than I remembered when I said, "I'm here – how are you Alcide?"

"I'm great – even better now that I can hear you. How are you feeling?"

"Lazy – I haven't had this kind of free time since I was in high school. I'm going back to work the day after tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the distraction. How have you been? Thank you again for taking me to the doctor."

"I would say it was my pleasure, but I think I would have preferred just to have enjoyed your Gran's pie at the library meeting you rather than watching you get 16 stitches." I laughed at that.

I chuckled, "That makes two of us."

"Do you have your work schedule for next week yet?"

"Sure do – Sam's been very understanding. He gave me all lunch shifts with Tuesday and Sunday off"

"Well – how about we go check out that library on Tuesday? If we do that safely, maybe you'll let me take you to dinner too." I was so glad I was on the phone and didn't have to worry about the scarlet blush staining my skin or the idiot grin plastered across my face.

"I think that sounds like a good plan. Hopefully there won't be any medical professionals required." Hoping my voice wasn't squeaky.

"I'll pick you up around 3:30 then?"

"Sure!"

"It's a date then – I'm glad you're feeling better. I gotta run – I promised my folks I'd go to dinner at their house tonight."

"Bye Alcide – I'll see you Tuesday."

"'Til Tuesday then," I heard the soft click and turned around to find Gran smiling at me.

* * *

In the meantime…

"…My last secretary resigned suddenly – if you are selected, when will you be able to start?"

"Immediately" I chirped.

"Did you bring a copy of your resume?" He seemed to be expecting me not to have it.

"Of course, here's my portfolio – it has my transcripts, work history, all that stuff." _Slow down Sookie, deep breaths, calm. _I handed him the slim leather bound book after slipping out the folder with my questions on it.

He flipped through it. Making comments to himself, asking the occasional question to clarify. Occasionally he threw out the standard interview questions as well. I was glad I had taken sometime to Google those and think of answers.

He closed it – handing it back – and looked me directly in the eye. "What's in the folder?"

"Oh – um – just some questions I had about the position and your company…you know, what does your company's benefit package include?" He held out his hand – I handed him the hand written page. I was glad I had recopied my questions neatly instead of the random scrawl I had left all over the sheet I had written while researching the company.

"Do you have the map to the city of Eldorado in there Ms. Stackhouse? Give me the folder." His tone didn't allow for argument. I don't much care for high-and-mighty attitudes, but I did want the job. I silently handed him the folder. There were several more blank sheets of lined paper – college ruled or my handwriting would get away from me – and of course my silly list of first day questions. He laid that page next to my company questions. Leaning forward he put his elbows on his desk, folded his hands with his forefingers steepled, and rested his chin on his thumbs. He studied both lists carefully. I understood why he had such a big desk – He'd look like a parent sitting in a kindergartner's desk otherwise. He seemed to look over both lists twice then he leaned back in his chair, letting his arms fall to the arm rests. He studied my face for a moment, nodded, and reached over to his phone and held down a button. "Mrs. Flanagan, please come in here."

I didn't know what to think so I sat quietly – ankles crossed, hands folded over the portfolio. Ms. Flanagan came in the room and quickly walked to Mr. Northman. He gestured that she should stand beside him behind his desk. He picked up the pages and handed them to her. "Nan, you were concerned about the applicant being adequately prepared and conscientious – do you think this preparation indicates that?"

She took a moment – looking over the lists twice herself, raising her eyebrows. "Quite, Sir."

"Did you have a chance to check her contacts, references and run a background check?"

"Yes sir, everything checked out – the official background check won't be in until Monday, but the preliminary was clean." I was surprised not only that they were discussing this in front of me, but also that she had already done all that work. I don't think it had been forty-eight hours since I'd filled out the application online.

He nodded and turned back to me. "Ms. Stackhouse, this company prides itself on excellence but also on our discretion and decorum. You will be expected to sign a confidentiality agreement – not everything is top secret, but you will need to be careful about what information you reveal to those outside the company. Let me be clear – I don't expect to you to lie to your family or fabricate your daily routine here, but I do expect that my privacy regarding my schedule and who I work with will be respected as well as the content of those meetings and any correspondence you are privy to. Do you understand?"

"I think so. So I could tell my Gran or my roommate that you had a meeting with accountants all day that seemed to be really draining, but I shouldn't say who they were or what they were accounting."

"Correct. Do you think you can comply with this policy?" His eyes were so piercing – I felt like a field mouse targeted by a hawk.

"Yes Sir" I nodded as well. He stood and walked to the side of his desk – Ms. Flanagan scurrying to stay nearby.

"Your job would be probationary for three months. Your hourly rate would start at nineteen-fifty an hour. Health benefits do begin immediately – or really when all your paperwork is filed. Ms. Flanagan can explain the details. If you complete your probation satisfactorily, we will discuss an hourly raise or perhaps a salaried position. Are you amenable to this?"

My jaw may have dropped. I quickly clicked it shut again. "I have a question. If this doesn't work out for either party during the probationary period, what kind of notice would need to be given?"

His eyes narrowed, studying me. "Barring immediate termination for a spectacular blunder, two weeks notice is required for either party. Now are you going to accept the offer or not? I haven't all day to persuade reluctant would be employees. Mrs. Flanagan will go over your lists with you this afternoon."

"Yes, Sir, I'd love to take the job. Thank you," I really did try to curb the gushing. He held his hand out, shaking mine firmly. I made myself focus on the information I needed to get from Ms. Flanagan rather than how warm his big, strong hand felt wrapped around mine or how my knees were feeling gelatinous. He brought his other hand up to wrap around the handshake – not letting go. He looked at Ms. Flanagan.

"Nan, call downstairs – let them know the other applicants can go home. They are free to leave a resume on file if they would like.

"Ms. Stackhouse, one more thing: I expect you to have lunch with me on Mondays and Fridays to go over scheduling. You may either take off early on Wednesday or Friday afternoons or clock the overtime. You will not be expected to pay for you meals as they are a required part of your duties." His hand tightened around mine slightly, holding on to me for my response.

"Y-yes sir" I nodded. He released me and I brought my hand back.

"Then I will leave you in Ms. Flanagan's capable hands." She already was moving towards the door as I scurried to grab my bag and follow her. I looked back and saw that he was still standing, still eyeing me with that predatory gaze as the door closed, shielding me from his view.

I told myself then and there that I would give it a month before I made a decision about staying.

**

* * *

What do you think? Our Sookie is much more Type A than I'll ever be. Are you catching the music references?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Please Hold: chapter five**

**Author's note: This is still not my sandbox, although I do love playing in it. Here's what happened to Hadley… It's also why I started with an M rating. Not for the fun reasons. **

* * *

Four months earlier…

After we had cleaned up the kitchen, Gran insisted that we go back outside and finish winterizing the garden. We continued working in silence, content with each other's company and our hands busy. After we had finished our work and had started putting things up in the shed, Gran said "I think we should go see this apartment – talk to the landlord. Maybe a change of scenery would do you some good."

"Gran, I can't move away – I was worried enough moving to Shreveport, I don't want to be that far away from you."

"Well dearie, it just so happens that I was looking for a change of scenery too. Maxine's been telling me about this independent living place that her cousin just moved into down there. Sometimes a place like that sounds nice – they cook a few meals and have people to drive you to doctors appointments but I'd still have my own place."

"Gran! What about this house – you can't sell it!" I was shocked by all this.

"Of course I wouldn't sell it, but I could rent it out – maybe to a young family. Let strong young backs take care of the old house for a while – while you and I go on adventures in New Orleans. We could check with Sam – he owns those duplexes in town. He might know some people who are looking for a place – maybe even give us tips on being landlords."

"What do you think Jason will say? We'd be leaving him all alone up here."

Gran raised her eyebrows, "You know as well as I do that Jason is only as lonely as he wants to be. He might like to come visit the big city – who knows. Regardless – I think we should go check out that apartment and that independent living place."

* * *

I called Mr. Cataliades the next day. He insisted that we ride back with him in his car in two days. He said if Gladiola or his other niece, Diantha, couldn't drive us back, he'd rent us car so we could. When I called Ms. Broadway – Amelia – she was over the moon, saying we could stay in her part of the house if we wanted – if we didn't want to stay upstairs. I decided that a pair of adjoining hotel rooms would be the best choice, and I had more than enough in my when-you-figure-shit-out fund. If it didn't apply to this, nothing did. The drive down was uneventful – I think Gran and I slept in relief – we were so anxious in the days before that just being on our way knocked us out.

We met Amelia in the driveway of her house. She took us upstairs, explaining that she'd had the whole place repainted in white – the bedroom where it happened was empty, except for the new floors, walls, ceiling, and the smell of fresh paint and drywall mud.

* * *

7 months ago… (And a different point of view)

I was too late – that thrice damned accounting meeting with my brother ran long. I wanted to catch her in the act: spending the money – buying all that nonsense for her little pet. Maybe make a scene in one of those upscale boutiques she loved so much. I knew it would keep her from going back anytime soon if I embarrassed her.

I used the GPS trace I'd installed on her car to trace her to a small home with a walled courtyard. I parked down the block, on the street. Since Katrina, I never went anywhere without heat. This city is shit – they fill in the potholes with books – how did I let her convince me to stay?

I slipped inside the walled area. I knew about this place – their love nest – I couldn't even think about it without snarling. I walked to the exterior stairs. No lights through these windows. I slink to the door – I check the door – didn't even bother to lock it. I crept through the house – silent except for faint noises behind a closed door – obviously a bedroom.

Moving closer, slipping my off my high shine oxblood loafers, leaving them outside the bedroom door. I turned the knob slowly, before I pushed it open. I shouldn't have been shocked or surprised by what I saw. White trash is an infectious disease. I stood for a moment – in the doorway watching. They were quite a pair. I thought about subduing them. Ruining this girl for other men, like I'd ruined my Sophie, but then she saw me – and grinned. Now I just wanted to ruin her for Sophie – forever. The bullet had exploded into the slut's chest before that thought had run though my head. Sophie looked wide eyed at me for a heartbeat, and then at the bloody mass she was holding –dead, shot through the heart. She took a deep breath. I shot her before she could start screaming.

I climbed in bed with them. Apologizing, explaining it was the only way. I turned the gun around and it was done.

* * *

As I inspected the place, I could feel no ghosts – maybe the fresh paint and the hope I'd felt for first time in a month drove them away. Amelia explained that the contents of the room had been returned by the police, but she'd put it all in a storage container – we could go through it, or send it to a landfill. She assured us it was just the furniture and the linens – all the items that were salvageable without a hazmat expert were already retrieved. Gran and I decided to just let it all go. Amelia seemed relieved not to have to open the box, happy to call for a truck to haul it all off in the morning.


	6. Chapter 6

**Please Hold – Chapter Six**

**Author's note – All hail Ms. Harris; she gives this lazy writer a readymade sandbox to play in.

* * *

**

Three years earlier…

Tuesday noon found me a slight wreck. My tongue was basically healed and the stitches in my leg would come out Friday. I couldn't decide anything. It was another nice day so I opted for a sundress, but I was torn between two different ones. Stalling, I put together total package looks for each to think on. My white denim jacket – cut to fit snug at the waist would look great with both. I hummed and hawed, finally deciding to go with a pale pink nail polish that would work with either get-up. I did my fingers and toes. After the painful wait for the polish to dry, I hopped into the shower –knowing the shampoo would scrub any drips off my cuticles. I took my time, being sure to scrub, shave, and smooth everything out.

I blew out my hair then got dressed in my nice under things – it always gives me confidence to be well dressed all the way to my skin. I kept my make up simple. My tan was doing well; my chin was pretty well healed. All I needed was a light touch with powdered foundation, mascara, and lip gloss. No way was I going to try to pull off smoky eyes at 3:30 in the afternoon.

After much debate, I decided on the cornflower blue dress – it has a sturdy top and hemline to the knees. I thought it would keep up with me better in Alcide's truck than the gauzy geometrical print I was considering. I slipped it on and fastened my peep-toe espadrille wedges. Time to pack my purse: red wallet with ID and mad money, lip gloss, small mirror, wet-ones, and tissues – check. _Okay, two fifty two, now what?_ I wandered out to the kitchen, leaving my bag and jacket on the hall tree. Gran was buzzing around the kitchen – she stopped and complimented me when she noticed me.

"Distract me please. I've got over half an hour to kill."

"Put the big apron on – I don't want you to make a mess of yourself." I slipped into her big smock-style thirties apron; it looked like an old feed sack with trim around the neck and arm holes. She was wearing a regular hostess apron – I'd made us a matching set in my home ec sewing class. Normally, I would wear its twin, but she was making dough and I didn't want to be covered in flower.

"I think you arrived just in time – I wasn't looking forward to kneading this." I laughed, happy to help her and to make myself useful. Gran really did know how to distract me – come to think of it, she usually bakes on Wednesdays.

As I worked the dough and the flour, eventually making a sturdy bread dough, I finally let myself really think about Alcide. Well, I more daydreamed than thought about the end of this date, and possibly more. I'd tried to keep from getting my hopes up. I'd never been real social in school – kinda nerdy, kinda poor, and not too good at anything, so I just stayed mostly to myself. My good friend Tara was my only real playmate and confidant growing up. I hadn't wanted to leave Gran, nor did I want to take on debt myself, so I hadn't gone to college. I was mostly happy with my life – well may be not earth-shatteringly, best-life-ever happy, but content. I liked my job, boss, coworkers. I loved my gran and our old farmhouse. I'd pushed down the thought that maybe I should have more or that maybe I should _want_ more.

Eventually I got the dough together, oiling up the big glass bowl, turning the ball to cover it. I threw a clean hand-towel over it, and left it in the pantry to rise. I'd washed my hands and hung up the old feed sack apron. I had just made it back to my room, checking my face in the child sized vanity, when I heard the distinctive noise of a suped up truck's exhaust.

* * *

Sunny Afternoon of Interview day…

The door closed behind me and Ms. Flanagan pointed to the closest desk. "Sit there – it's yours."

She turned around and opened the door I had just walked through, slipping a small wedge into the hinge side of the door. I looked at her – I'm sure I was a deer in the headlights.

"Mr. Northman prefers that his door be left open when there are no visitors to the floor. Let me get you the confidentiality agreement so I can start answering your questions. Please get out your social security card and your driver's license. I'll make those copies while you fill out my mountain of forms."

She stepped through the door right hand door behind her desk; I could hear a file drawer close, followed by a fax machine wail. _That answers first day question five and eleven b._ I sat down at the desk, pulling out my red wallet and fishing out my ID's. I had time to take a deep breath – petting the beautiful leather top on my desk. The shrill ring of the phone on my desk made me jump at least a foot. I stared at it as it rang again. Nan chose that moment to walk back out into the reception area. "Well, answer it already."

"Ravenscroft, Northman, and Davis. How may I help you?" I said a prayer of thanks for not stuttering.

"_Yes, I need to speak to Eric? Is he available?_"

"I'd be happy to check. May I tell him who is calling?" Nan now stood in front of my desk, contemplating me.

"_This is Pam. Please leave me on the line while you check._"

"Of course ma'am. Just a moment." I grabbed a wad of tissues, setting the handset's mouthpiece down on it. Nan looked at me with raised eyebrows – obviously waiting to see what I would do next.

I stood up, walking toward Mr. Northman's office. I taped the door frame as I poked my head in. He looked up with those icicle eyes.

"Mr. Northman, there is a lady named Pam on the phone asking if you are available."

"Oh – transfer it over please. That's my sister – she's the only exception" I could only guess he was referring to first day question number one.

"Yes Sir."

I walked back to my desk, looking at Nan. I asked, "How do I transfer it?" as I picked up the handset. "Ma'am? Are you still there?"

"_Where would I go?_"

"Could you please hold while I transfer you to Mr. Northman."

"_Just_ _make it quick!_" This Pam obviously did not fall out of the patience tree.

"Yes ma'am – please hold." I watched as Mrs. Flanagan pushed the obvious hold button, then the multiple keystrokes she made to send the call to Mr. Northman.

"We'll do a test transfer later. It would not do to drop Ms. Ravenscroft's call."

I nodded. Wait what? – I felt the same shaky sick feeling I get when I have a near miss with a crazy road rage driver.

I noticed the button labeled 'EN 1' blinked for a moment, then glowed red. I could hear the rumble of his voice in the neighboring room.

Ms. Flanagan, who promptly told me to call her Nan, handed me a stack of forms in exchange for my ID cards. As she went to the back room, I read over them – especially the employee confidentiality agreement – before starting the arduous process of filling them out. After filling out about half the forms, I set my pen down and shook out my cramped hand. I really should hold my pen correctly. I noticed the little EN1 light was now off.

Looking up, I ask Nan question number 2a from my first day list: Where is the employee bathroom? She stands up, telling me to follow her. We go through the left hand door behind her desk. There is a large break room/kitchen with two doors labeled as unisex bathrooms. I opted for the right-hand side door. After taking care of my personal business, I washed my hands – using the towel to open the door. (Waitress habits die hard.)

"Coffee?" Nan offered.

"Yes please."

I took the proffered cup and returned to the desk. As we walked back, the phone rang again.

"Ravenscroft, Northman, and Davis. How may I help you?"

"_Get me Eric Northman_," the gruff voice demanded.

"I'm not sure if he's in sir. May I know who's calling?"

"_This is detective Andy Bellefleur, New Orleans PD_."

"Good afternoon, Detective Bellefleur, may I ask what this is in regards to?" That got a response from Nan – she rushed back to Mr. Northman's office. _Why is NOPD calling him? What did he do?_

I could tell by the footsteps that she had returned with him. I looked up; He had a grave look on his face. "_He needs to come in and make a statement._ " The detective snipped at me loudly – I think everyone in the building heard him. Mr. Northman shook his head no, point at the ground – he mouthed here.

"I understand sir, but Mr. Northman has stepped away from his desk and I don't know when he'll return." I know I'm a bad liar, so I decided to tell the truth as best I could. I won't repeat his response to that – a lady should never use such language, especially on the phone. He also implied that I was lying. I decided that someone who deals with criminals frequently like a police officer does must not have the

"_Listen girlie, I don't have time to waste on this – I need about an hour of his time. This is police business._"

"Yes sir. I understand sir; I'm not trying to be difficult. My name is Sookie Stackhouse. It's my first day here and I really don't know what to tell you. Is he being subpoenaed? Or is there some kind of warrant?" By this point, Mr. Northman and Ms. Flanagan had picked up a phone each on her desk and were obviously listening in. Mr. Northman stared at me, raising an eyebrow.

"_No, I need to conduct this interview regarding a criminal investigation – I need to speak with him very soon, or I will have the D-A petition for a subpoenaed."_

"Well, I'm looking at his schedule tomorrow. He's got a short appointment at 11, but he's free for the next few hours. How about you come here to the office? I can meet you downstairs; make sure you get escorted directly to Mr. Northman – no waiting in a lobby. I could even order in for lunch since it'll be time to eat by then. Would that work for you?" Maybe that was laying it on too thick – but Mr. Northman said he wanted it to be here.

"_You'll be in reception? No waiting rooms?_" The detective seemed calmer now.

"Yes sir – a golden ticket to the executive elevator. I'll be waiting for you at from 11:25"

"_That could work_ "

"How much time should I put this down for in his calendar? And what would you like for lunch?"

"_I don't see this takin' more than an hour or so – put an hour and a half, just to be safe. Don't worry about the lunch_."

"It's no trouble, sir. I'm sure I'll be expected to stay here too, so I'll be able to order out for all of us. You sure you don't have a preference?" Mr. Northman smirked at me.

"H_mm, well, I suppose I could be talked into some gumbo – maybe with a po'boy. Nothin' fancy for me._ "

"Sweet tea to drink?"

"_Sure_"

"Alright then Mr. Bellefleur, I'll see you at 11:30." I heard a click. I looked at the phone dumbly for a minute – _nice manners_ – and I saw that Mr. Northman was standing in front of my desk. I looked up, and then up some more. _Is he taller than…?_ Focus Sookie! He leaned down, resting his hands on my desk.

"Please explain what that was about." Even though he said please, there was no mistaking the order in his voice.

"Well, he seemed like he didn't want a brush off – you said you wanted him here, so I did that. You don't really have to buy me lunch. I figured if I scheduled it for tomorrow, you'd have time to get a lawyer here – if, well, if you need one. The 'it's my first day' thing was just nerves. I'm sorry about that." He met my eyes and stared cold and hard for a while – minutes? hours? probably just seconds – then stood up and laughed.

"Oh no, you'll be here – order lunch. Ms. Flanagan will make sure proper representation is present. I prefer étouffée over gumbo; make sure you have both delivered. Olivier's Restaurant on Decatur would be an excellent choice. Call them now, I'm sure they'll be able to accommodate with some shrimp po'boys or crawfish cakes." I opened my desk drawer, and pulled out a phone book. I quickly found the number – I looked to Nan. "Is there a preferred contact there?"

"Audrey usually handles our orders. With this short notice, we can have a runner go and pick things up. Offer that if they're difficult about it." I dialed, and was able to explain the situation to Audrey quickly – we were going to have to send a runner, but everything would be ready to pick up at eleven am.

Mr. Northman was looking at me and the yellow pages. He leaned over my desk, pushing a couple numbers (Nan needed to teach me the system – FAST!) and held the receiver to his ear."Russell? Eric. I need you to get my new assistant online a-sap." He paused, listening. "Come on up – I'll give you a cold one." He dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

"Nan – you should probably get to Ms. Stackhouse's list – Russell will be up shortly to get her account set up. I promised him a beer for the effort."

Nan smiled, pulled up a chair, handed me a pen, and laid out my lists in front of me.

* * *

**What sends you back into the past? Do you avoid it at all costs or embrace it?**

**Also, as much as I love all the reviews, favorites, and alerts (and I do – God Bless I do), I feel I should let you know that the romantic side of this Eric & Sookie relationship will be a long time coming. I think Sookie needs a rebound before then. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Please Hold – Chapter Seven**

**Author's Note: Thanks to all the folks following this story and to those of you who reviewed – I understand if you don't. I have bad habits in that department myself. We should all think happy thoughts about Mrs. Harris – she owns all this after all. Also thanks to Merry for the help! (I did some more tinkering after that – so my mistakes are mine). **

**Speaking of my mistakes, I finally was able to go back and fix some things wrong with the earlier chapters. You can go back a see if I caught them all, if you're into that sort of thing. :)**

Four months ago…The day after meeting Amelia

The following morning, as we waited for the truck, Waldo Paul showed up – he was Andre's brother. He also had a driver bring over a rental car that was ours for the duration of the visit and for the trip home. He seemed like a man that was handed the very dirty end of the short stick more times that seemed statistically possible. As an albino, he already had some problems in life – add in an older brother like Andre and I try not to imagine the hell growing up must have been. Life and time had not been kind to him. He handled it with a shaky almost grace. He explained that while the furniture, mattress, and linens had been ruined – along with several clothing and personal items that were left out or in open drawers, there were a number of items that were in good condition – mostly clothes and some jewelry and they were in a different container in the shed. He added that there was also a very nice painting that had been "a part of the incident and resulting crime scene" and he had sent it off to be cleaned. He offered to have it sold or look into having it put into a museum if we decided we didn't want to keep it. It seemed like he hesitated for a few minutes. "I also have several photographs. They were in albums or behind glass in frames. I have those ready as well." Gran and I both thanked him. He noted that he'd put most of Andre's estate in a charitable trust and to let him know if there were any causes that we felt could benefit from the money. While Waldo never said nor implied anything, I got the feeling, later confirmed by Mr. Cataliades, that the Leclerq family was aghast at the situation. They wanted nothing from Sophie's estate. They just wanted to make sure the funds wouldn't encourage another Hadley onto the scene. While I was angry at that assumption, I had to admit – sleeping with a married woman behind her husband's back was not on my to-do list, nor did I think it would ever rise in popularity.

After the truck came and took away the crime-scene-in-storage, Waldo left – giving all of us his business card. Gran and I had a cup of coffee with Amelia. We reluctantly climbed back in the car. Gran had an eleven o'clock appointment to tour her possible new home.

Cedar Grove Senior Center, the independent living place, was really nice. It was an old converted plantation on Tchoupitoulas Street in the Garden District – I could tell Gran really liked it. I think she was excited to not have to cook breakfast when she didn't feel like it, but still live an old historical place. We wandered around after our tour guide – we kept losing her because Gran would stop and visit with so many of the residents. It seemed like a nice place and we could afford it if we got enough for rent on the farmhouse.

As Gran was meeting with one of the directors of the place, she blindsided the both of us. "I read on your website that you are looking to hire a new activities director. What does a person like that do?" _Gran – on the interwebs?_ I thought I would never be shocked again – that's what I get for thinking never. As I pondered this, Gran had talked herself into two month of probation with reduced rent – with opportunity for an interview and hiring at the end of six weeks. Apparently it was a position split between the neighborhood community center and a few independent living facilities in the area. I tried to keep up with the conversation – it turns out that staying cooped up in your house with no contact with the outside world is bad for you even if you are retired – especially if you are retired. So the community group and a few churches had scraped together the funding for the job, trouble is, there weren't many good applicants, and the residents seemed to hate them.

"Of course they do!" Gran laughed. "You're hiring all these young folks to harass old fogeys to get up and out, but the only young people they want to be around are their kin or their friends' kin. Also – a Saint's game? What earnest young man's idea was that? All the noise, crowds, walking, and standing – I'm surprised you actually got that many people to sign up. You let me have this job – I'll get them out and about." I knew that this would be great for Gran. It would keep her busy, engaged in life, and out in the world. The world could use more people like Gran in it.

After explaining some of the ideas she had, I was ninety percent sure she'd have the job in a month with the interview as a formality. I also realized that Gran was moving to New Orleans, whether I liked it or not.

I excused myself from the room. I sat on a bench in the empty courtyard – it was nearly four o'clock, so I imagined most of the residents were getting ready for dinner. Did I want to move? Why should I stay in Bon Temps? The only thing holding me there was Gran, Jason, and the farmhouse. When we told Jason what we were thinking, he'd said "I figured you would need to get out of here for a while – it'll be good for you Sook. Might be good for Gran too. She's buried too many people living here, hell, so have you. Get out there, live, and see the big city – just don't do anything I would do." I'd laughed at that. "Seriously Sookie – I'll come visit ya'll, just get a real good pullout couch in your new place. I can help whoever lives here look after the place – you can always come back and visit too. Maybe help me fix up our old rooms into proper guest rooms." I'm not sure if Gran had told him to say that, I decided that Jason probably didn't realize his decent big brother stripe was showing.

I decided I could give New Orleans a try. It's not like I'd have to break a lease to leave. I waited for Gran and on the way back to the hotel we planned our next steps: pack the house and find a tenant. I'd need to get a job once we got settled, but it would be okay. We decided to sell my old clunker and get some more work done on her car. We could share it. She wouldn't need it all the time and I could wait until I was established and had a job before I picked anything out. There were also several colleges and universities in the area. Maybe I would just work part time and get my bachelor's degree. We decided to leave that night and start getting ready. We called Jason and he said he would put in for a few days off at the end of the following week so he could tow a trailer down and help us move. I called Sam too – he said he knew of a couple of folks looking to rent a house and would help us draw up a lease and he said to call Greg Aubert to make sure our insurance was right for having renters.

As we drove home, Gran was bubbling with excitement and plans. I asked her about using the internet to research the facility and she said that Mrs. Albanese, the librarian, helped her to look it up. It was another idea she had for the "old folks" (as she called them) – find someone with the computer know-how, but the patience to let them learn. Most computer people, I knew from experience, got exasperated with the non-tech savvy and took over the keyboard. Marcia Albanese wasn't a tech geek by any stretch, but she did know how to make feel comfortable. She was also one of the best understated hostesses I'd ever met. That was just one of her ideas. We passed the drive talking over her other ideas. Gran wasn't too into sororal groups like The Daughters (The Daughters of the Confederacy). She was more interested in the real history, active in groups like her Descendants of the Glorious Dead and the Civil War Trust. She even had contacts with several historians around the state. Thinking on it, I couldn't think of a better thing for Mr. Paul to use his brother's money for – helping seniors, building community, restoring and exploring historical places. I'd be sure to call some time when Gran was away.

By the time we had our coffee the next morning, Sam was headed over with some lease applications. Mr. Aubert called and asked us to come by around ten-thirty to fill out all the new paper work. Jason had called the night before – he had a line on moving boxes and would bring them over after lunch.

Everything worked for the move – it made me nervous. No problems with setting up or transferring utilities. No one was angry that we were leaving. We found great tenants in my good friend Tara Thorton and her new husband, JB du Rone. They were expecting a baby soon and wanted to get a bigger place. I knew JB would do everything he could to keep the house in shape and Tara felt more at home in the farmhouse than she ever had in her own childhood home. Jason's friend Hoyt talked to a mechanic friend – he traded the work on Gran's car for the title to mine.

A few days later, Tara came by for lunch. We went through the house with Gran – deciding what needed to go on the truck, what could stay, and what should probably go away – sold, charity, burn pile. There was some room to store things we weren't sure about in the attic and in the storage shed behind my new place. Amelia said she just needed room to store some lawn equipment. After I saw the shed, I realized she met outdoor furniture and a grill, not lawn mowers and weed whackers. I couldn't really imagine her mowing anyway – she must hire the work out.

I already had ideas for my new place. I would be rearranging a lot of things there. The second bedroom would be just that – a bedroom instead of an office. Alcide had bought me a nice laptop for Christmas while we engaged and I decided I liked it better than Hadley's big desktop. I could set up my small desk in the living room and have the extra bedroom for guests or maybe I could rent out the room. Amelia said that I could do whatever I'd like to in that department – so long as I filled out the correct paperwork and let her run a background check. She said she'd already run one on me – a credit report too. Nothing showed up on either one – no record, no credit, no surprise. Gran had taught me not to buy things I couldn't afford. The mortgage on the house Alcide and I bought together had been my first loan. Tara agreed with Gran that I should by a new bedroom set after I moved – my own private hideaway where I could relax while I built new memories and a new life. I let myself be persuaded. Alcide had not slept in the set in our master bedroom, but it had been picked out with both of our tastes in mind. One of the first things I decided when he died was that if he was never going to sleep in that bed, I wasn't either. For this new home, I wanted a sanctuary, something tranquil. I'd looked around online and found a few things I liked – I'd start looking in earnest after we moved down. I could sleep in the day bed in the smaller bedroom in the interim. The apartment would be getting a lot of new furniture. I'd sold most of what was in my house and Gran was going to donate lots of her things. Hadley's decorating style, like that of her clothes, didn't suit me, so I decided to splurge a little. In the meantime, there were several things to go through and get rid of or sell. I was the most irresolute about the floor full of shopping bags – items from the last shopping trip Hadley and Sophie ever took. I pushed that out of my thoughts – Amelia had said she would help me take care of it. I decided to take her at her word.

The waves of good luck kept coming. I was tossing salt, knocking wood, and praying it would last – it was time for me to catch a break. I tried and mostly succeeded at not worrying about how long it would last.

**Author's Note: Do you believe in luck? Destiny? Or do you think we all blaze our own trails in the universe?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thanks to Ms. Harris for this crazy sandbox to play in. Thanks to Merry for her help too.  
**

Three and a half months ago – Moving to NOLA…

I couldn't seem to shake the luck, but I decided not to think on it too much. I guess not living in Bon Temps is what the universe wanted for me; I'd never had such an easy time reorganizing my pantry, much less moving. Smooth sailing never made me nervous before – after I thought about it for a while, I decided to view the loss of Alcide as the aberration in my destiny – rather than the windfall I seemed to be having now.

Tara dragged me out for a few drinks the night before we left – she of course was stuck with mocktails – she claimed that name was accurate because they mocked her and her belly. I was still in bed by ten o'clock – _note to self, pregnant women make an easy escape option_. I woke up at four am when Jason came roaring up the drive honking. He pulled up in front of the trailer we finished loading yesterday afternoon and got out to hook up the trailer hitch.

By the time I'd washed my face, brushed my teeth and put my shoes on the correct feet, Gran had coffee brewing in the kitchen. I could hear Gran fussing at him, asking if he was trying to wake the dead. I snickered at that – imagining the cemetery next door springing to life with Zombies, a la _Shaun of the Dead_. I poured us each a travel mug of coffee. Gran and I had debated frying up bacon one last time for a last breakfast in the house. We reasoned that it would create too much mess and leftover packing. Opting instead for a grease-a-polooza for all meals yesterday and then packing her old, well seasoned cast iron frying pan along with the rest of the kitchen after dinner. We hit the road at dark o'clock (five am) – stopping for an unhealthy, but so satisfying fast food breakfast. And just like that, I was a resident of New Orleans.

* * *

Three years ago – A strange first date…

I waited in my room for a slow count to five and a deep breath. When I walked into the living room, Alcide was coming into the door. He smiled – his face lighting up, then turning back to Gran to answer her question. Being a waitress might not be a glamorous or prestigious, but it does make you learn a lot about human nature. I had been worried that I was reading in too many DATE! signals, but as I took in Alcide's demeanor, I realized he was definitely in date mode.  
He'd showered and shaved within the previous hour – on a weekday afternoon no less. Maybe he had a dirty job this morning, but I found myself unworried and not second guessing myself. At work, I'm a smiling, sassy, confident barmaid – those traits rarely bleed over into my home life, but I wasn't questioning my instincts. As I smiled and watched him talk with Gran, he wiped his palms with his handkerchief and tucked it back into his jeans pocket – sweaty palms – definitely first date nervous. I was soon broken out of my reverie.

"I'll be down at Caroline Bellefleur's for the evening." Gran said, gathering her own purse and keys. I looked at her, about to ask…

"It's Miss Doreen's night off and her granddaughter – you remember Portia? – has a deposition to take in Shreveport. I can sit with Caroline and make sure she doesn't aggravate her hip, probably easier than most." She turned and looked at Alcide, "Old folks take a telling off much better from their contemporaries, rather than a cheeky youngster, you know?"

"Yes, ma'am." His deep voice boomed out. He looked down at me. "Are you ready? I'll be on the lookout for midgets with skewers."

I laughed. "Sure, let's go. See you later Gran!" I waved back to her as we walked out the door. She had paused, smiling at me through the window in the front door. I turned back as Alcide unlocked and opened my door. He offered me a steady hand as I boosted myself up into the high cab of his pickup. I was glad again that I had gone with this dress – it was cute and comfortable, but kept me modest on the climb up. He smiled and closed the door, jogging around the front of the truck and stepping into the truck, just as easy as I'd step onto the curb.

"I called ahead. The main librarian is off today, but her assistant – or maybe it's a volunteer? – will give us the grand tour." I laughed, wondering who would be leading this tour. Some of the Friends of the Library – and several of the volunteers were uncommon characters. The quick trip to the new building was over before we really had much chance to talk. We parked in that nice new paved parking lot and walked to the main doors side by side. I had my library books with me to return. I had called in the renewal because I'd missed the chance to recheck them. The library was really smart about the move – they encouraged people to check out lots of books so they wouldn't have to pay to move them and they gave you an extra week before the due date checkout. You just had to agree to bring them back to the new library. I was glad I was currently having a love affair with non-fiction. It may have been gauche to be turning in a stack of romance novels on a first date.

We walked in the door and were greeted on sight by Elmer Claire Vaudry. Well, I guess I'd see how easy it was to embarrass Alcide. Elmer Claire was one of the bawdiest septuagenarians on the planet. I ended up being the one surprised. "Hello Sookie! So good to see you and with such delightfully delicious company," She winked – never one to miss a chance at little sally. "Marcia said you were coming for your tour today and left me a whole heap of stuff for you."

"What sort of stuff? I didn't have anything on reserve did I?" I was just plain lost – looking at Alcide, who looked just as bewildered as I felt.

"No – she said you had talked about maybe starting community college online this fall. She put all this information together for you. Also, she got a grant to buy refurbished laptops – you'd be able to check one out when you had to do extra class work when the library is closed. You're a great barmaid Sookie, but you won't want to wait those tables at Merlotte's forever." While Elmer Claire was a retired schoolteacher, she also had some parts of her past that were a bit more checkered. She was one of the few people who could say that without getting my back up – she was just stating facts as she saw them plainly, not judging me or my job. She could see me pause, thinking it over. "Come on, let me show you one of the laptops – you don't even have to have your own internet to send things – their programmed to use the wireless server here at the library – you can sit in your car in the parking lot if you need to send something out online."

"How do you maintain a secure server?" I'd forgotten Alcide was there until he'd piped up with that question – nice date behavior Sookie.

"I don't know – something about anti-tampering chips with gps and some number type of encryption – I'm too old to know that kind of stuff." Elmer Claire threw up her hands. Then she narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at Alcide, "but I got an email and a facebook so I can see my grandbabies and my great-grandbabies."

She led us into a computer room – mostly empty given the time. She opened up a laptop that looked brand new to me – I thought of refurbished as a slip-covered couch, apparently there was more to it with technological items. "Now – do you have an email address?" I shook my head no. "Well, we'll start there and see where we end up. So sit down and go to Google dot com." I looked up at Alcide – really not a first date activity. He smiled. "Go ahead chere – you can send me your first email." He got his fancy cell phone out of his pocket. We spent the next hour and a half with Ms. Vaudry showing me how to operate the computer enough to sign up for an admissions appointment – I arranged it far enough out that Sam could work around it on the schedule. I also made a list of the paperwork I would have to collect to apply as well as several printouts about financial aid and grant applications. After that, I got more information about testing out of class. I hoped I would be able to save some time and money there too. All through this, Alcide was calm and smiling – encouraging me and sending obnoxious emails that made me laugh. Not those dumb – forward this to people that like whatever – just stupid stuff, but it was the most fun I'd had filling out paperwork and making lists I'd ever had. We finally headed out the door with all my information, and a shiny red laptop to boot. We strolled around the new grounds, admiring the landscaping for a few minutes before climbing back into his truck.

"You want to go get something to eat?" Alcide asked me after we got back in the truck. I was surprised he was willing to wait so long while I filled out those forms and made one heck of a to do list.

"Don't you have work early? I don't want to keep you up and ruin tomorrow for you." I really didn't want an awkward precollege-pep-talk/let-her-down-easy meal. I'd rather just give him an out.

"I don't have work in the morning. I got to drive to Jackson tomorrow afternoon. I have to be there to present a bid from our company. My brother in law was going to do it, but he's home with the chicken pox. Whoever heard of a grown ass man getting chicken pox?"

"Don't they vaccinate for it now? Lots of people won't get it anymore." I responded to the comment rather than the dinner offer.

"I guess – so what are you in the mood for: Italian? Thai? Barbeque?" I guess he was stepping around my out and avoiding giving me one. He already knew I worked the late shift tomorrow.

"Barbeque actually sounds great – I've been craving some good brisket. The place down off highway forty one has great ribs, but their brisket is awful. Do you know a place around here?" _Might as well let him know now that I wasn't a side salad without dressing kind of girl. _

He smiled and put the truck in gear. "I know just the place."

We rode to a hole to what looked like a ramshackle old shack. The Hair of the Dog was a counter style, eat-out-back type of place. When we walked in, we ordered at the counter – sides were family style, white bread was in a bag on the table. Several different sauces were in squeeze bottles in an old six pack container. We went through the back doors where you could watch the men cooking the meats. Alcide had opted for pork ribs, while I went for my beloved brisket. The grill master came over – Alcide introduced him as John Flood. After a while, he pulled the meat from the meats from the smoke and brought them over. We sat and ate and drank ice cold long necks – laughing about Elmer Claire's pick up lines and zingers. John came over after awhile, introducing his wife who promptly talked us into peach cobbler and coffee. Alcide did slip in a few encouraging precollege words, but this was definitely not a let-her-down-easy meal. We just sat and joked and laughed until they shooed us out at eleven p.m.

"I can't believe how late it is! Where did the time go?" I sighed as I leaned back into the passenger seat of the truck.

"They say time flies you know?"

"I just wish it flew like this at work. I can't believe we kept them there so late! I know better than to camp out at a table like that."

"Don't worry about it Sookie – I went to school with their oldest son – they're like family to me." I didn't know what to say then. Sure he'd met my family – Jason had introduced us, but he voluntarily brought me around people he liked and cared about. I got happy-nervous-excited rabbles of butterflies in my belly and smiled a shy smile out the window the whole way home.

When we pulled up to the farmhouse, almost all the lights were off. Gran had left the kitchen light on and the porch lights, but that was it. I was fairly sure she was still awake in her room, but she would give me time to say goodnight. Alcide got out of the truck, he helped me out by steadying my hand and when I was back on terra firma he didn't let go – opting instead to walk me to the door hand in hand. I didn't rush the walk, but all too soon we were there. I turned and faced him. I'm no waif, but he made me look and feel like one, he was so tall and broad. As I looked up into his eyes, he smiled.

"Sookie, did you have a good time today?"

"Of course I did – I'm sorry about taking all that time at the library…" He silenced me with a finger on my lips. He slowly traced them back and forth.

"I've never had a better first date. Would you see me again?" I nodded yes slightly. I didn't want to lose the contact of his fingers on my lips. "How about next week when you go to the school? We could have lunch after." I nodded again, and smiled – he was still touching my face. He slid his hand to my hair, around my neck slightly. He pulled me forward a little as he bent and delicately kissed me. We just stood there in an almost chaste kiss for a moment, my hands sliding up his strong arms. As my heart started to pound, his arm went around my back and pulled me close to him, his mouth opening and his tongue coaxing its way in between my lips. Time seemed to stand still and fly by at the same time until he pulled away panting, his arms still around me. "Good night chère. Would it be alright if I called you? I'm going to be out of town for a few days, but I'd like to hear your voice." I panted a breathy yes. He smiled, "Good night, I'll let you get your rest." He let go then. I pulled my keys from my bag and let myself in.

"Thanks again, I had a wonderful time."

"The pleasure was mine Sookie. Now make sure you lock up. I'll see you soon." He waited by the door until he heard the lock click. He leaped down the porch stairs and went around to the driver's side of the truck. I could see his grin lighting up his face. He looked once more at the house, climbed in the truck, and drove away. I turned and put a hand to my lips and smiled as I leaned against the door. I may have stood there for hours grinning.

* * *

**Author's Note: Is there anything more exciting than falling in love? Do you change your wallet when you change bags?**

**Coming soon – the rest of interview day, it's a monster, and an old friend is coming by - any guesses who?  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Please Hold – Chapter Nine**

**Author's Note: Thanks to Ms. Harris – it's her school bus– I'm just taking it on a field trip.**

**Thanks to Ms. MerryCain for the beta. And away we go…**

Interview day – getting to work…

Nan smiled, pulled up a chair, handed me a pen and laid out my lists in front of me.

"Alrighty then, let's start by going through the first day questions. We'll go back to the interview questions if there is time, otherwise I'll bring you up to speed tomorrow morning.

"Question one: Who is the exception to No Interruptions/No Exceptions? Well, you've already learned Ms. Ravenscroft, and that is an automatic always – once we get through the phone system tutorial, I'll teach you how to forward calls to his cell. For now, she'll have to call it directly if he is out of the office."

"Now, there are two other exceptions, but they will very clearly tell you that they want him interrupted when he is not available. Actually, everyone will say that, but the only ones you need to worry about unless told otherwise are the other senior partners – Stan Davis and Appius Livius Ocella.

"I like the corollary of this question much better and it's quite possibly more important. Mr. Northman might forgive a crossed wire with the other senior partners, but he absolutely will not take calls from Victor Madden. He's with the Narayana Group. Eric will take calls from Felipe De Castro, presuming he is available. If Victor Madden calls, you are to take a message. If he keeps calling, let Mr. Northman know after the third call, and redirect him to me or the legal department for calls beyond that. Do you have any questions?" She gave me a cold look; I understood that this Victor Madden was definitely a persona non grata.

"I'm sure I will, but I understand the idea for now." I nodded, scribbling a few notes:

_PR – Always_

_SD & ALO – when requested_

_Victor Madden – NEVER (de Castro is ok)_

"And you show your practical side with question two." Nan may have suppressed a snort. "You have already learned that the staff bathrooms are through the break room. The public facilities are on either side of the elevators. By the way, the one on the right is for the whole building, and once the accounting firm on six is finished with its renovations, you'll be expected to use the main elevator. The offices here each have a three quarters bath. Ms. Ravenscroft keeps several items here in case of emergency – should you need it, help yourself." She pointed to the office across from us.

"Ms. Ravenscroft will be here next Tuesday, and I'm sure she'll explain her philosophies on the importance of proper attire, but to sum it up, for female employees, we fall somewhere between formal business dress and business casual. Ms. Ravenscroft calls it Smart Dress." She gave me a conspiratorial look and leaned closer. "This next part is not part of company policy, but you're smart and I like you, so I'll tell you some of my observations if you like."

"Yes, please!" I squeaked.

"Mr. Northman is very professional, but I think he prefers ladies to wear dresses more than anything. Nothing too short, too low cut, or too revealing, mind you. Femininity is respected," She cleared her throat, "slutiness is not. Another tip: wear proper undergarments – they should fit and support, but not show. Ms. Ravenscroft will call you on VPLs." She paused and kind of looked me over – it wasn't checking me out, but almost. "I'm hoping that someone as buxom as you knows better than to go without a bra. And I would think that sleeveless shirts are a no-no, except in the hottest part of summer, when the air-conditioning quits, then all bets are off and all meetings are held in the neighboring hotel. As for casual Friday - khakis, never jeans. Occasionally there are exceptions – like when one of our storage warehouses was flooded – then you wear what you need to for the job – I spent most of that fall in jeans ironing documents then scanning them while in that aluminum clad file depository. I have a new image of hell and I don't want to wear jeans to work again anytime soon." I laughed with her on that one – remembering having to help Sam clean up after a small electrical fire had burned a corner of the dining room when an old neon beer sign sparked a fire. Nan continued, "Also, a makeover with Ms. Ravenscroft has been compared to boot camp by some of our ex-military personnel. Having said that – she is a shopper and she loves it. You have a different figure from hers – I can see her sending you clothes – please just accept them with grace. It is NOT worth the argument and you won't be able to return it to her anyhow – unless it doesn't fit. If it doesn't fit, let me know. Ms. Ravenscroft incorrectly assessing a lady's dress sign may be the first sign of the apocalypse.

"'Number four: Who is a good person to ask small questions?' It depends Sookie – I'm happy to answer small questions like 'What's the international prefix for dialing Rome?' or 'Where do we keep the toner?' Questions like 'Where's a good place to get a pedicure and still get back from lunch on time?' might be better for Ginger or one of the girls in main reception. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

I nodded – I had a feeling I would be asking Nan more questions than anyone else.

"The door next to the kitchen/break room is our work room – there is a copier, fax machine, and the most frequently used files. Big copier jobs are done by Ginger – I'll get her to show you the forms for set up. Be detailed and complete with it. I find making her a sample of what I want usually helps.

"Moving on to question six: 'Who do I contact in technical services for account set up?' Well, for initial set up…" The elevator on the right dinged and the doors whooshed open. "Speak of the devil, Mr. Russell Edgington in the flesh." Nan stood up, smiling at our visitor. A small man – he was at least an inch shorter than me if we were both bare foot – had waltzed into the room. He had espresso brown eyes and vivid red hair. He was well put together, polite, and he lit up what Lafayette called my 'gaydar' like a Boeing 747.

"Should my ears be burning Miss Nan? Have you been telling stories?"

Nan stood and put her hands on my shoulders. "This is Ms. Sookie Stackhouse. She's Mr. Northman's new assistant – she was just asking who could get her set up on our system – she also had a few other questions."

"Well, Little Miss Thang, let's get you rockin and rollin. Get up – I need to drive to get this set up." His drawl made me smile as I popped out of my chair to stand behind him. At least he was polite about it – I hate the lean-over take-over that some IT guys do. "Miss Nan – Eric promised me a beer for getting this all set up. Could I trouble you to…"

"Already on it Russell. You just get to work and I'll go grab your liquid reward." She disappeared into the staff break area.

"So, Rose, what're your questions?" Russell neither looked up nor blinked – he was in the geek tech zone – the keyboard was rattling and he was clicking through screens faster than I could think 'Jack Robinson'.

"Umm..Uhh…Rose?" That was not my question, but I seemed to be stuck in automatic brain-to-mouth mode right now.

"You're clearly an untended rose in the garden of humanity."He answered as if it was a matter of fact.

I stuttered again briefly then finally looked at my list so I wasn't mesmerized by the superfast tech wizardry. "I wondered what font and point size I'm supposed to use – are you standardized here? Oh and is there someone I can call if I run into a silly problem – you know, like where to save multi-user files to. And who do I crawl to on bended knee if I manage to make the network implode – or something else real bad?"

"Sans Serif – go with Verdana, Serif –Georgia. Use at least 11 point – but I find for email 13 or 14 is best. I'm only an email away – I'd rather you send it to me than end up like your predecessor. I'll be your Man Friday – just like Robinson Crusoe." He winked at me.

I laughed then asked, "My predecessor? I haven't heard her story yet." Russell paused and turned back to look at me thoughtfully. Nan appeared with an Amber Bock bottle and a frosty cold mug.

"You might as well tell her, Russell. You opened the can of worms."

"Well, Lorena – Lorena Ball, that is, was Eric's former secretary. She chose to resign, mind you, no one here made her – at least no one with any authority – or tact for that matter. She got involved with one of my programmers, I'm sorry to say. Bill Compton is a hard worker, but an idiot at times. They are a match though – she's in the family way with him. It seems that they decided together that she should stay home and raise the child." I raised my eyebrows trying to think of something tactful to say.

Russell looked up at me, "Yes, exactly. Well, sit back down in the driver's seat little lady, let's take a ride." He stood up, holding the chair out for me, scooting it in as I sat. He slowly walked me through the steps for email – helping me set up my two accounts – internal and external. I was S Stackhouse at RNDC dot com for external emails. I'd even be listed on the corporate website. Internally, my email was Sookie S at RNDC dot com. Stan explained, "Most of the employees will use the SStackhouse account, but it is helpful to have the second account for internal dialogue. Let's program your primary contacts on the internal account. I've already put myself in – now click the address book to add more."

Obediently, I clicked. "Ok – you'll need Miriam – That's Miriam E at RNDC, she's Pam's assistant, of course Pam R – although she'll usually just send things straight to Eric, she will cc you if she needs you to get something. Now Barry H – Stan's assistant, along with Stan D – he'll email you sometimes when he's ready to go off hold." I paused and gave him a confused look. "One thing at a time – you'll figure it out. Now, Alessandro R – that's Mr. Ocella's assistant. Halliegh R – the head of Human Resources, Nan F – executive office manager, and of course, your boss The Viking at RNDC." I looked up, obviously confused.

"The Viking?"

"Yes ma'am. The underscore Viking – that's his internal name – it's a nickname that's stuck since we took over Threadgill and Family a few years ago. 'All hail the conqueror!'" I blinked and turned back to the screen.

"What about Mr. Ocella? Shouldn't I have his email?"

"Mr. Ocella is a lot like Chuck Norris you know?" I gave a look that said I obviously didn't know.

"'Chuck Norris doesn't check his email. His email checks itself." Stan paused – waiting for a laugh. After an almost awkward moment, he hurried on, "Alessandro handles all of his communications – if you're directed to email him, send it to Alessandro's account. He's with him all the time these days. I would have thought it would wipe him out, but he seems younger every time I see him. Don't do anything now – I'll send out an introductory email. Now, give me your phone – I'll get everything set up and transferred – you have a close to unlimited package with us – I just need to put in this SIM card." He rattled on – holding up a Barbie sized card with a Sprint logo on it. I handed him my ancient phone – it weighed more than Tara's miniature Chihuahua and smelled about the same – I think she used to take naps on it before Tara passed it on to me.

Russell acted like I passed him a lead brick – feigning the heaviness of it. "Oh no, this is not compatible with our systems – hang on." He got up and walked to Mr. Northman's door. Knocking lightly, he strolled into the room. "We have to move you assistant out of the dark ages – I'm using one of your back up phones. I'll put in a p.o. for a new one in the morning." I couldn't see Mr. Northman, nor could I make out his rumbled reply. I watched Russell stride to a door – obviously a closet – grabbing a couple boxes off the top shelf. He turned and looked to me, "Red or black?"

"Uh, red." What? He tossed an iPhone box to me. Looking at the box I could tell it had a red skin.

"Don't worry – that one's not anywhere top of the line anymore. Eric went through a phase where he took out his aggression on his electronics…"

"I wasn't that bad – and half of them had it coming by acting defective." Mr. Northman bellowed from the depths of his office. Russell rolled his eyes,"so I always keep a couple backups around. Now – do you have an iTunes account?" I shook my head no, only to be on the receiving end of another eye roll. "I don't have time to teach you right now, but I'll email you to set up a tutorial next week. Stand up – let me drive again. I'll get this set up with the basics and that'll hold you until then."

As he merrily clicked away, I looked at Nan. She responded by picking up my list. "Number seven, I've scheduled for a physical next Monday at ten thirty. You already have coverage, but the insurance company requires you to be checked out within thirty days of hire. I'll give you the name of my o-b-g-y-n, he's very nice, but do your research and ask around. I'm going to assume you don't have a dire need for penicillin or ortho tri-cyclen, but just in case…" she handed me his card. I had gone on the pill years ago to help my cycle regulate and reduce cramps – now that I had good health insurance, you could bet your bottom dollar I'd be on it again. I fished my red wallet out of my bag and slipped the card inside it.

"Now, Rose, dear – you're all set up. Have you ever used an iPhone?" Russell, finished bewitching all the technology in sight, stood up, handing me the red jewel.

"Yes, my-my, Alcide had one. I can make calls with it."

"Good – now here's how you check email" – he showed me quickly. "You don't have to enter a password for that, but you do to unlock the phone. I've preprogrammed this one for you. It's seven six seven three zero four four seven seven."

I looked at him – my face clearly showing that I would never remember the number he'd rattled off like it was his birthday. I knew it couldn't be, but I had no idea what it was.

"Rose Hips" He smiled. "You know - the fruit of flowering roses. Only I used a zero instead of a space." I smiled – that I could remember.

"Thank you for your help today Mr. Edgington."

"It's Russell please – it was my pleasure." He took my hand and bowed over it. I giggled and curtsied. "See you around Rose." With that, he waltzed to the elevators and disappeared.

"Now – question eight – pet peeves. You really should learn these as you go, but I'll give you a few pointers. Ms. Ravenscroft is the fashion police, so don't be caught in violation if she's this side of the Mason-Dixon. Don't chew gum near Mr. Davis. Don't email or even call Mr. Ocella directly without a directive from a senior partner."

"And Mr. Northman?"

"Don't argue with him in front of others."

"Yes, those are wise words." His deep voice slid through my nerve endings. "If you have questions of me – ask me privately – even if it means you send me an impertinent text in the middle of a meeting." He smiled impishly.

"Nan – thank you for staying late. I'm sure Mr. Flanagan won't appreciate it if you are late. I'll go over security procedures with Ms. Stackhouse."

"Yes Sir – I'll be on call for you through the weekend – then I'll start Ms. Stackhouse in the rotation." On Call? My face must have mirrored my thoughts. Nan explained, "One of the assistants is always on call in the evenings. Usually it's a forty eight hour rotation – I'll explain more later. Ms. Earnest, Miriam, - Pam's assistant? – usually sets up the schedule, you'll get it ironed out next week I'm sure. Well have a good evening. Sookie, can I count on seeing you here between half seven and a quarter to eight?"

"Yes, of course."

"I'll see you both tomorrow then."

"Goodnight" I called, as she slipped into the elevator. Mr. Northman said "Goodbye Nan" at the same time. As the elevators dinged, I realized I was alone with my new boss. My nerve wrackingly handsome new boss. He turned and picked up the list. "So – onto number nine, Security. I'm very glad you are security conscious, especially in this city."

"What? Why?"

"New Orleans is the murder capitol of the country. It has the distinction of a higher per capita murder rate than the illustrious destinations of Detroit, New York, Los Angeles, Houston, and Miami." I considered this for a moment – my cousin was part of those statistics. Alcide was dead and that had happened in a nice 'safe' area – I could be paralyzed by this idea or I could move on and be prepared to live safely in the big city.

I took a deep breath. "Ok, then what security do you provide for personnel?"

"I'm so glad you asked. You have around the clock access to our permit only parking garage. The pedestrian entrances require a security badge. I'll be sure you have one tomorrow. I have a hang tag for you vehicle already. You will park in your designated space on the third level. In addition, we have two night security men here – Siegbart and Weighbart. If you leave after 5:30 or in the winter, after dark, one of them will escort you to your vehicle. You should not leave on foot alone after dark here – this isn't the ninth ward, but it's not Mayville either. There is a car service, but if need be, call a cab and charge it to the company. Nan will issue you a copy of corporate credit cards soon as well. Do you have mace or pepper spray?" I did – Alcide got me the kind that hooks to your key ring for when I had night classes at school.

"I do. I'm not stupid and I don't take foolish risks." I snapped. _Wow, I must really want to win a land speed record from hired to fired._ I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I appreciate you taking the time to tell me all this."

"I don't think you're stupid. I think you may not have all the facts – ignorance is bliss, until you're blindsided. I just want you to keep your eyes open Ms. Stackhouse. I'm sure Nan will go over keys and security codes and the like first thing tomorrow." His rapidly moving fingers on his phone made me think that she was probably getting a detailed message about just that. The longer we stood and talked, the more I realized how attractive he was, how tired I was, and how big the headache I had coming on was. "Now," he pushed a button and looked up, "Are you ready to go? It's been a long afternoon."

"Um yes, just let me –" I turned and scooped up my bag, sliding the new phone with all its paraphernalia inside along with its ancestor. I placed my portfolio inside as well then slipped out Amelia's keys and the clip on pepper spray from the neighboring pocket. I turned as I pulled it over my shoulder. I had a sneaking suspicion that he'd been watching me – maybe ogling. Maybe I was making mountains out of molehills. "Um I parked in the lot across the street. Do you think one of the security men could walk me out?"

"I'll walk you out – I'll get your parking pass issued on the way out." He offered his arm. "Shall we go?"

I sighed, took his arm and nodded. "Yes, let's go." He pushed the call button and led me inside. The bell dinged and we started our rapid descent. The soft music in the elevator was apparently piped throughout the main floor, it was just easier to hear once the office was mostly empty. I heard him murmur, "….falling star and put it in your pocket..." I smiled and ducked my head. He stopped immediately. "I'm sorry, the muzak people keep that one in heavy rotation it seems." He smiled. I just nodded and let him lead me back out to the main reception room and to the desk. Two large men, similar in build, looks, and dress stood up as he approached.

"Sigebert, Wybert ," He seemed to know who was which, but I'd be damned if you asked me to tell the difference between the two men. "This is Ms. Stackhouse. She is my new assistant. She needs a parking pass issued for tomorrow. I ask that you keep an eye out for her – I'm sure she'll be working long hours as she gets settled.

The one on the left grunted and pulled out a binder that held a ledger and a stack of parking hangtag and stickers. "Oh, I'm driving a friend's car right now – I also share a car with my grandmother. Do you think I could just take a hangtag for now?" He grunted again, turning the book around for me to fill out the little form, then turning it back around to copy down the pass number and hand it to me. I took it and slipped it in my bag as well. "Thank you kindly!" I smiled brightly. His mouth twitched and he grunted again, closing the binder. I just _knew_ we'd be great friends – at least I kept the eye inside my brain.

"Is the badge camera working right now? We might as well have her get that out of the way too." Great – ID photos – the best part of a new job. When did I get so sarcastic? The other one nodded and walked to the door behind reception – not the big double doors, but a single that led to a workroom with a camera set up at one end facing the wonderful blue backdrop featured in school photos and drivers licenses everywhere. I signed and walked in front of the camera. I tried to put on that half smile pleasant look that if I hold too long twitches into a grimace. I heard the shutter click as the flash whirred. I was sure it was a grimace – oh well.

"They'll have to print it and send it to Russell so it will give you proper clearances on the right doors. I'm sure he'll bring it up sometime tomorrow. Most of the doors use a badge lock now – you'll have a set of mechanical keys, but that can wait for tomorrow as well." Mr. Northman explained on the way out of reception, heading for the public lobby of the building. As we approached the exit, he looked back – I suppose to make sure the office doors were closed. "They're not big talkers, but they've prevented a lot of incidents and do a great job of protecting our employees and assets here." I nodded.

I pointed to Amelia's mustang as we waited for the light in the crosswalk. I had been distracted by the muzak and the security procedures, but now I realized that I was feeling awfully tingly after touching just his arm for a while. I felt a slight wave of sick and guilt but took a deep breath and pushed it down. There has never been any harm in looking, after all, and he's my boss – never gonna happen. I pushed down the thought that Alcide would've been my boss by now if, well – I pushed that thought down in a hurry. As we arrived at the car, Mr. Northman turned towards me as I let go of his arm to unlock and open the car.

"I think you'll like working here. I think that this will be a good fit."

I smiled. "I hope so." His hand lifted and he ran a finger down the edge of my face, then picked an imaginary piece of fluff from my shoulder. He nodded and looked away. He opened the car door wider and stepped away, clearing his throat.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes, of course, sir. Tomorrow." I slid into the car and he closed it. I started the car, but reached down to take off my shoes and set them in the passenger seat with my bag. I sat up straight reached for my seatbelt and realized that he was still there, still watching. I rolled down the window, looking up.

"Next time, lock the doors first then lose the shoes." He smiled as I nodded and hit the lock button. I rolled up the window and double checked the mirrors and the seat position. I looked back up and he was already across the street. I gave a little wave, sure that he couldn't see me in the bright lights of the building's entrance. He did turn back and seemed to be waiting. I put the car in gear and carefully merged onto the street – driving away. He was still visible in my review mirror until I made the turn at the corner.

**Author's note: What questions have you wished you'd asked on your first day – or at an interview? Have you ever had a work crush? **

**In other news, I'm trying to respond to my reviews – if I missed one of yours in a prior chapter, give me a frowny face with your review in this chapter and I'll put you at the top of my list :). FF & I are currently arguing about being able to see my old messages, so I'm trying to stay on top of it, but I'm afraid I may have missed someone or doubled up. I really do read and reread your reviews – thanks so much for them! (Also, please allow PMs if you would like a reply.) I've also responded to my own thoughts on the questions in my profile – if you're feeling nosy. Again, please review – even if it's generic. Thanks! - Rachel **

**Oh – and yes NOLA does have the highest per capita murder rate of cities over 250,000 people in the US. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Please Hold Chapter 10**

**Author's Note: Holy Snikes Bat Man – Chapter 10 already? Thank you to Ms. Harris for these wonderful action figures (never dolls) – I promise to put them back in the toy box without making a dime. **

We're in the present – can you believe it?

I cried on Amelia's shoulder for a little while longer and let her lace my coffee with a little of Jameson's to help me calm down. I didn't argue it – one drink would help me sleep and keep away a post tear-fest headache. She said it was fine if I used her car the following day and would coordinate between Gran and me on the transportation. I really needed to buy a car – I'd say a new car, but I didn't think I needed that – just something newer. I'm hoping cash for clunkers hadn't destroyed all the decent used cars. Amelia and I ended up watching a generic show on HGTV. I caught myself yawning so I bid her sweet dreams and headed up the stairs to my apartment. There were interior stairs that opened into a small closet in my room. We kept the doors in between locked, but it was nice not to have to go outside.

After my nightly ritual of tooth-brushing, face-washing, and lotion-applying, I slipped into one of Alcide's old t-shirts. A lot of people tried to just box up his things and send them off when he died. I wouldn't have it. Most of his clothes I passed on, but I saved his t-shirt collection and a few other things. I also held onto his jewelry and a few suits – I hoped his sister's son would be able to put some of them to use. I'd make sure he understood that if he didn't want the things I gave him, it was ok to pay them forward – I didn't want Alcide's things to feel like a burden, but I'd like for his family to have the opportunity to make that decision when things were less raw. Janice almost had a panic attack when I threw out his boxer shorts – I would have donated them like I did with most of his jeans, but who donates used underwear? I shuddered just remembering that thought. I climbed up into my bed – it was a high four poster bed with canopy rails. I bought sheer curtains to hang from them so I'd have my own little retreat. I had beautiful white wooden shutters in my room that I could lock to leave my windows open. It felt like my own tropical retreat. I loved the crisp white of the sheers and my sheets against the ebony stain of the wood. I had a few brilliant blue-green pillows and throw blankets to make it pop. It was a very sophisticated set for someone who spent all but a few months of her life sleeping in her childhood bed. I climbed up, turned on the TV to HGTV and set a sleep timer – I went to dream land watching the man from income properties remodel and renovate in sleeveless shirts.

I woke up the next morning, not to my carefully set alarm clock or the alarm on my cell. Nor did the aroma of my preprogrammed coffee maker push me into reality. Amelia bursting through the hidden staircases and leaping on my bed with an aluminum baseball bat in tow woke me up.

"Ohmygodohmygod Sookie! SOOKIE! Wake up right now." I sat up immediately looking for the emergency that must be running through my bedroom.

"Wha? Who? When? What?"

"There is a man, sleeping in his car in the driveway. He is really tall and has fuchsia toe-nails. What do we do?"

"Wait – what kind of car is it? Is he black?" I felt like I should say, I_ know that masked man, _but it was too early for me to put the proper melodrama in it.

"An old White Buick Park Avenue – and yes, wait are you a psychic?"

"Is there a bumper sticker that says 'No Bitchin' in My Kitchen'?" She nodded and I knew. I launched myself out of bed and pulled an old dirty pair of jeans from the hamper. Stepping into flip-flops, I zipped up then launched myself towards my front door. Daylight was considering the merits of arriving as I skipped down the steps. I ran to the ugly old car and started banging on the hood and windows.

"Bitch, you better not be fuckin' up my ride – it's all I gots these days" a sleepy voice told me from inside the open back windows.

"Lafayette Reynolds, as I live and breathe. What are you doing here?"

"I'm in culinary school –didn't Tara tell you?"

"I think so – I didn't realize you were here, otherwise I would have invited you over – how did you find me? Why didn't knock on the damn door? You know better than to sleep outside in a place like this." I scolded.

Lafayette laughed and coughed to clear his throat. He sat up and slid out the back seat driver's side door. He stood and stretched his long lean body. We'd been friends long enough to know that they repelled each other absolutely in a sexual way, but he was still a well put together person.

"What are you thinking sleeping in a car in this city? Did you want me to find you dead? You need to get on your knees and thank the Good Lord that you're healthy and safe and with friends." Lafayette looked shocked for a second, but bowed his head and said his thanks. We'd had several talks and decided that any being that could create the amazing sights in the heavens and the depths of the oceans, couldn't just hate someone for whom he loved.

He looked up from his shoes and explained, "I had lunch with Miss Adele yesterday – she said you were renting out a room. I came to ask how much. I moved down here for the cooking school ya' know – I figured I knew people. I got a storage shed to keep my things in till I could find a room to let. I ended up falling in with some old friends I knew from Shreveport – but I can't stay there Sooks – I just can't. Them people is dirty and not in the Christina A. kinda way." I raised my eyebrows at that and he cleared his throat. "I mean I can be drrty but I don't shit where I eat. Sookie I can't explain the nastiness of the place and they weren't even _ashamed_." I understood what he meant. People can't always help their living conditions but most of us tried to live with pride. Laf wasn't speaking with conceit. Live had beat him down enough, but he would have taken care of himself and the people around him too. If it made his skin craw to live there it was surely awful. "They's just dirty birds. I can't sleep there, I can't cook there, and I can't live there. I'll sign a lease, pay you rent, and sell half my soul to live here with you Sookie. You's clean and neat – you don't keep crazy hours – I won't be bringin' any party boys by I promise and I'll clean and do my own dishes – please Sookie please!"

I took a deep breath, "How about this, we go inside and make breakfast. You make nice with my landlady while I get ready for work. I just got hired yesterday and I just. Can. Not. Be. Late. You'll stay here until the weekend and we'll talk."

He whooped and whirled and swept me up into a hug and started carrying me up the stairs Rhett Butler style. "Ahem… as much fun as this is Laf – both of our boats are going to sink on principle if you continue."

He laughed again and set me down. He grabbed my hand and we went upstairs. He opened the door and bowed me inside, "My lady." I laughed and pulled him over the threshold with me. Amelia tried to look like she hadn't been gawking at us from behind the shutters.

"Pretty thing, you go shower and get ready. Auntie Laffy is going to make you a hearty breakfast to help you get through the day." He moved towards my kitchen while he made a 'git' motion with his hands. "Go on, scoot."

"Amelia," I called on my way to the master bath, "That is the one and only Lafayette Reynolds. You play nice and he'll cook you breakfast."

Miss Manners would forgive my less than formal introductions (I hoped) – but it was early – I turned off my snooze alarm so it wouldn't start wailing halfway through my much deserved shower. I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail – catching the ends to make a sloppy loop. I dropped my jeans and panties in the hamper and looked at myself in the mirror as I pulled off the old Tractor Supply Co. t-shirt. The scar running from my right hip to my lowest left rib had faded to a pale and shiny red line. Everyone wanted me to forget what happened and just move on. How do you move on when you carry the marks of tragedy each and every day? I ran a hand absently over my belly. I noticed that I had some lady maintenance to keep up with in the shower and slipped a fresh razor cartridge into the shower. I turned on the shower to let the warm water makes its way up and picked up my night clothes (and emergency jeans) to throw into the hamper. I sighed and flipped off the lights. I love showering in the dark. I'd reach out to turn on the lights to shave, but I'd give myself a few minutes of darkness to sooth and heal my battered nerves. I pulled my hair down. I decided I had time to blow out my hair that morning and I could skip it tomorrow morning which would, hopefully, be calmer. I slid under the water, washing my hair, conditioning it, scrubbing my self – letting my worries flow down the drain – even if it was only for a few moments. I slid my arm out of the curtain and fumbled for the switch – keeping my eyes closed. I opened my eyes after a moment and found my razor – after assuring that everything that I like to be smooth was indeed smooth I stood for a last long rinse. God Bless tank less hot water heaters. I switched the water off and wrung out my hair before grabbing for the towels I'd set on the toilet seat. Alcide was always amazed at how much water my hair held – two towels worth. I used a regular towel to get it as dry as I could before wrapping it in a chamois-like hair towel. I then took the final towel to dry my shivering body and move to the sink. I brushed my teeth and rubbed lotion all over. I set out my makeup and hairstyling equipment for getting ready in a moment. As I opened the door, the shower steam escaped, but welcomed the delightful and familiar scents of Lafayette cooking.

I walked into my bedroom, lazily hanging my towel over the canopy rail, then sliding on my pretty pink cotton under things. They matched the flowers in the dress I planned to wear. White background with large tropical green leaves and beautiful flourishes of flowers, it was a square necked top with cap sleeves and a wrap style detail on the skirt. I was a little doubtful if the sleeves were acceptable, so I had a tailored jacket to wear with it. Besides, offices were always too cold when men who wore suits controlled the climate controls. I pulled on the dress and set out my shoes for later – I wouldn't put them on until I was in my parking space. I walked into the kitchen to find Amelia sitting on a bar stool gossiping about what hot actor was or was not dating Kate Bosworth. I cleared my throat and Lafayette danced over to me to zip up my dress.

"Okay sugar – I'm glad you're barefoot, otherwise we'd be looking across three parishes for your socks after you try this." He pushed me down into a chair and put a spoonful of heaven and bacon in my mouth. I moaned. He wisely made no comment. Instead, he checked my outfit. "You want me to blow you out while you eat?" Now, if this was the first time this had happened I would have refused, but Lafayette's abilities with bangin' hair were only surpassed by his cooking. I'd experienced both and the same time; it was as close to heaven as I'd ever been with my clothes on.

A blow-dry from Laf felt like a massage. It was what I needed as my real alarms hadn't even sounded yet.

After he'd finished and Amelia and I had both cleared our plates. I decided then and there not to ask why the anchovy paste was out – I used it early in a few sauced, but I didn't want to know how he'd used it today. I asked Amelia to give us a minute and she agreed to go downstairs, but she wanted me to say goodbye before work.

"Laf, this is her house. If you're going to live here, she's going to run a credit check and background check. – Are there going to be any problems."

"I was a little late paying off my extensions a few years back, but I made good – as to everything else, no promises."

"Give her the info, let her run it & we'll talk again about this tonight. That would give me some time to think." I added" I won't make any final decisions before next week. Consider yourself on probation"

He nodded and started gathering the dishes to wash. I made my way downstairs to have a private pow-wow with Amelia. After a little further explanation of my friendship with Lafayette, including that extended back before high school, and she was fine with hanging out with him for the day. She handed over her car keys. I had already gathered my bag and shoes. I called up to have Laf come down. I bid them both a good day and walked out in flip flops to slide into Amelia's car. I heaved a great sigh, started the car, and made my way towards work.

**Author's notes: Are you OCD, slightly messy, but still clean, or can you live anywhere? How hard is it for you to ask for help, especially from friends?**

**Thanks again for the review love. The hit counter at FF isn't working, so it's the only way I know anyone is reading – Happy weekend!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Please Hold – Chapter 11**

**Author's note: This is all Ms. Harris's – I own none of it. Thanks to Ms. MerryCain for the wicked fast beta.**

The first time I spent the night at Alcide's was very innocent – really. The summer after we met, Alcide continued to take me out on dates about once a week for the rest of the spring and summer. Occasionally we'd meet up more often than that. We had a lot in common and enjoyed our time together. He even let me pay my own way on occasion, especially when we went to see an opera at the civic theater. I'd always wanted to see an opera and when he consented to go, he didn't fight me when I ordered our tickets. It wasn't what I'd thought it would be like, but it was still amazing and I was glad that he'd shared it with me. He had also very directly told me that he wasn't seeing anyone else and asked if I would be willing to do the same. Even If I had regular offers from anything besides barflies I would have willingly agreed. I officially had a boyfriend – and a gorgeous, caring one at that. The other consuming event of the summer was taking several tests to earn credits (I even retested on a few). I was able to shave several hours of my graduation requirements list. Typing was the last test – it had been my first too, but I knew I could do better than forty five words per minute. I practiced all summer – typing what I listened to and what I was reading. It actually became a good way for me to study. With a few pointers from friends and some gracious assistance from the office manager at Herveaux and Son Surveying, I learned to master help commands and navigate the menus. I also found I was much more efficient if I just used shortcut keys and stayed away from using the mouse. I still worked at Merlotte's, but Sam also taught me his inventory program and was starting to teach me to do some of the books.

I ended up taking two tests that Friday. The first was accounting basics, which I had originally planned to take a month ago (it was only offered once a month) but I missed the last session when both Charlise's and Arlene's family all came down with a nasty summer cold that swept through the whole town for a few weeks in July. I think it worked out – I knew I'd gotten more questions right than I would have then due to more studying and all the bookkeeping practice at Merlotte's. The other test was a retake of typing and I got eighty two words per minute. Since it was also offered, I went ahead and took a dictation test and scored well enough to earn a couple more credits. I talked to my advisor – a Ms. Claudette Crane, – she helped me finish registering for the term. I would only need to take two of the accounting classes since I'd now tested out of the prerequisite. I was excited – it might only take one year of full time school with a few follow on semesters for classes that were only offered certain semesters or in a set sequence. Claudette said since I was able to improve on my own score (she actually cleared her throat, "Ahem, meaning you _actually_ study and practice outside of classes.") she recommended a few other tests I could study for to get other courses or certifications. She gave me a book on basic transcription – both medical and legal with a few practice tapes. She also gave me a book about basic web support. I was glowing with pride and excitement by the time I was on my way to Alcide's.

I'd come over after that last qualifying test. He suggested on our dinner date the previous Monday that we celebrate by taking it easy: no dressing up, no going out, no cooking – just pizza and a couple beers while watching an action flick. He and I both enjoyed the escape that comic book movies allow – and arguing over what the best super powers. He insisted that shape shifting was the best – like Mystique – or fast healing with super strength – like Wolverine. I disagreed, not that I don't love to watch Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, but I think that as far as superpowers go – Superman has the best set up, although definitely not the best movies. We planned on having an X-Men marathon. I had studied all week and worked three double shifts – I was beyond ready to just kick back and relax, especially if I could be with Alcide for it.

I'd only been to Alcide's house once before when he left the e-confirmation for our movie tickets at his house. He'd just pulled up and run inside, so I didn't get to see the inside. When I pulled up, I parked in front of his front door. He lived in a townhome in a fairly new area of Shreveport. It had a semicircular drive across the front that all the neighbors shared. He came out when I knocked. He was – as always – fresh from a shower, his hair brushed back from his face with his fingers. He had on a snug pair of old faded blue jeans with a wife beater style undershirt with an open short sleeve lumberjack plaid shirt. There wasn't much room in the arms – if fact I think the sleeves were making a valiant effort to stay intact from the strain of his biceps. He greeted me with a whirling hug and big kiss, asking me how my tests went. I got a repeat of the hug and kiss when he heard how well I'd done. He wanted to show me his whole place, so we walked around the building so I could see the community park with a basketball court, playground, and several covered picnic tables with those mini charcoal grills that public parks always have. He explained that his building and the one behind it shared the park. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket (and conveniently turned away, not catching my ogle of his high firm, ahem, back pockets) and pushed a button to open his garage door. I was momentarily distracted – I'd never heard of a garage door clicker on a key chain. The building was built into a hill so there was a garage basement level that had room for two cars parked in line and a utility room. Since he only had his truck, Alcide had a tool bench and a workout area with weights and some kind of massive fancy cardio device. He also had high efficiency front loading units that I had drooled over in magazines and stores. We went up the stairs that opened into them long living room of his home. Everything was painted a basic beige with the carpet a shade darker, all neatly framed with crisp white trim.

As with all bachelor's homes (in my limited experience), it was sparsely furnished. Just a big, long couch (long enough that I imagined he could really stretch out on it) and some comfy looking chairs. No coffee table, just an overstuffed ottoman with a plastic cafeteria tray to set drinks on. His entertainment system was amazing: a too-many inches flat screen TV with a ten thousand something i resolution which I took to mean was really good or fancy. Gran and I had only recently switched to the new digital receiver/converter since regular bunny ears weren't going to work anymore. I was impressed that he had cable – much less, my body weight in electronic devices.

His kitchen was neat, but again, fairly bland: tile floors, solid synthetic counters, white cabinets and appliances. He did have a big double stainless sink with a plate, knife and glass sitting in it. It didn't take a psychic to tell that he'd had a sandwich and a glass of milk for lunch. And he had – oh the green of my envy – a dishwasher. I thought maybe it was wrong for me to be drooling over his appliances – then I thought about him using them…and filed that thought and the physical reaction I had to it away for pondering at another time. The only thing I'd seen so far that didn't look brand new in the place was the kitchen table. It was no antique, just a good solid oak table – well loved and well used by at least a few generations. He saw me eying it curiously.

"It was in my parent's house. When they remodeled, Mom got one of those bar height tables and passed this one on to me because it was too big for Janice's kitchen. I bought the chairs at a garage sale a few months ago."

I nodded, running my hand over the worn surface and smiling, "It's nice – makes the place feel more homey." He just smiled and shrugged. The only thing out in the whole room besides a coffee maker was a menu to a local pizza place. We'd eaten there once – it had great deep dish crust.

"They take a while on deliveries, why don't we order and I'll finish showing you around. We'll have time after for me to make up a salad to go with the food." We quickly agreed to share a super jumbo huge deep dish everything pizza without olives; both of us liked olives, but not on pizza. We also got an order of parmesan encrusted breadsticks; just to be sure we'd feel like total gluttons. As Alcide made the call, I looked in his fridge for a drink – it wasn't super hot today, but humidity was at its August-in-Louisiana standard of one thousand percent. It also let me get a look at the fridge, which is almost as personal as a medicine cabinet or underwear drawer. He had a lot of empty room, but he also had fresh veggies, lunch meat, bread, milk, three kinds of juice, and more condiments than I could safely shake a stick at. I choose the bottle of pomegranate juice and set it on the counter. I mimed drinking a glass, as Alcide was still on the phone, giving his debit card info. He pointed to an upper cabinet near the stove – I found a set of plain pint glasses and grabbed one. After getting a little bit of ice from the freezer, I filled it about two thirds full of POM wonderful and used the sink to top it off. I put the lid back on and put it in the fridge. When I turned around, Alcide was in my path. He smiled and gave me a very memorable kiss. He picked up my glass and took a sip. "It is better with the water…hmph."

I reached for my glass but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back towards his living room. "We only have an hour before it's delivered – I don't know if that's enough time to show you the rest of my palace chere." He joked.

We climbed the steep wooden stairs to the top floor. It had a plain carpet landing surrounded with four doors. He started at the one on the left that faced us as we came up stairs. "Storage – and cool beyond cool – the laundry chute."

I bumped his hip, "Get out of town – no way!"

"I'm wounded that you don't believe me. He opened door number two and grabbed a pile of sheets from behind the sheets. "Behold the wonder!" He shoved them into a cabinet with a flap door. "I will stay in your sight at all times until you go to the basement to see the proof. In fact, so you don't think this is smoke and mirrors, I'll just have to hold your hand."I blushed at his flirting, but managed a real laugh instead of an insipid flirty giggle. I don't know why I felt so self conscious around him. He pulled me through door number two: An office/bedroom combo. His familiar laptop with the lime green skin was charging at a small desk that also housed a combination printer/scanner machine. There was a double bed that was missing sheets, although the coverlet had been put back properly. The clean set was folded on the bed.

"I'll give you hand – let's get this made up."

He looked at me like I was crazy. "No chere, I don't need any help – you were running early and I ran late, so I didn't get a chance to make it. I only ever use this bed when my sister and nephew come to visit."

"Many hands make small work Alcide – it's easier to make up a bed with two people." I went to the other side of the bed, pulled back the coverlet, and started to fluff out the fitted sheet. He shook his head at me.

"Only you would turn a house tour into housework Sookie Stackhouse."

"What's that's supposed to mean Alcide Herveaux?" I mocked.

"That you make far more work than you need to." He grumbled as he tucked the sheet corners around the mattress and grabbed the flat sheet. We smoothed and tucked it into place. He tossed me a pillow case and raised an eyebrow. "Race to see who's first?"

"Chins or no chins?" I volleyed back, eyebrow raised in return.

"Wha…?"

"Go!" I grabbed my pillow at the tag end and thrust it into the pillow case, snapping the edges with a flick. Alcide was still grumbling about cheaters and non-sequiturs as he bounced the pillow into place. I laughed.

"Good thing you didn't bet, huh?" He rolled his eyes, but then he winked at me. I tried to contain the blush by ducking down to grab the coverlet and throwing it in place.

The next door was a nice full bath – white tile with pale blue walls and darker blue towels and accents. I knew what the next door would be and I admit I felt at like a loose end – how do you act when you see your boyfriend's bedroom? He opened the door and it was a still the same beige on beige color scheme like the rest of the house. This bed was in the process of being made – the dirty sheets in a pile, the fresh sheets in place, and the pillowcases already on the pillows.

I moved automatically to throw them in place and smooth the pale green duvet out. I did raise an eyebrow and nod at the port-a-crib in the corner, "Anything I should know?"

"Janice is completely paranoid about Jackson sleeping upstairs – he sleeps in a toddler bed at home, but they stay in this room when she visits. There's more room for the boy in here." I nodded. That was definitely true. The other bedroom had a desk, a smaller bed, and a chest of drawers – this room only hand a bed and a pair of nightstands – the wall were bare except for a flat screen mounted on the wall. I walked to the foldable crib, stripped the sheet and pad out of the bottom and folded it up. Alcide looked at me like I'd made it snow in July.

"My friend Arlene used to have one of these when her boy Cody was little – she'd bring it over when I'd babysit." I explained. He nodded and picked up the crib while I followed him with the sheets to the storage closet and got to try out the laundry chute myself. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down two flights of stairs, then stood back to watch as he loaded that fancy washing machine. It looked even better than I'd imagined it, especially as he bent to pick up each handful of laundry.

We went back up the stairs arm in arm and walked to the kitchen. I talked him into letting me make the salad, since he already took care of the pizza and beer. He agreed – he tried to seem reluctant about it, but let me have my way. I wondered about his culinary skills if he was that relieved to avoid making a salad. After I'd chopped and tossed everything together, he set out plates, forks and paper towels in the living room and got the movie ready while I put our salads into bowls. He grabbed himself a beer and offered me one, but I declined so I could finish my juice. We had an awkward moment – looking around, trying to keep busy until the pizza guy showed up. He finally pulled me to him and started a sweet kiss when, of course, the doorbell rang. He gave me a sheepish look as he went to sign the slip and bring in the boxes. We immediately gorged ourselves on pizza and watched the first movie, then drank our way through the better part of a twelve pack. During the third movie, we spent more time paying attention to each other than the TV screen. Don't get me wrong. I don't know that we even qualified for a PG-13 rating at that point – just lots of sweet kisses and lingering hands. Eventually we turned back to watch the end of the movie. I remember all the mutants converging on Alcatraz then I dreamed Gran was talking to me. I woke up with a crick in my neck and an awful taste in my mouth. I stood up, or at least I tried too – my legs got tangled in the quilt tucked around me, but instead of hitting the hard, cold wooden floor in my bedroom, I landed on soft beige carpet with a loud thud. I looked around. I was on the floor in Alcide's living room. I looked at the clock on the cable box – 6:42 – shit was that am or pm? I heard an alarm clock buzz and a couple thumps. A herd of elephants decided to run across the ceiling. I looked around as I gathered my thoughts – the sun was coming up – must be morning – why am I here? I must have fallen asleep. "Oh Shit! Gran!" I scrambled to try and get up – and had a realization about my attire. I wrapped the quilt very tightly to my body.

"She's fine Sookie; I called her last night after you decided in impersonate a Sawzall as the Wolverine killed the Phoenix." A very shirtless Alcide mumbled from the stairs.

"Wolverine? Wait – Coffee? Please?" He nodded and walked through the kitchen. I was awake enough to admire the way the muscles of his back moved together in harmony as he stretched out his morning muscles stiffness. I sighed, then yawned and realized I would have to ask. "Um Alcide – where are my pants?" He looked at me with an eyebrow quirked. "And where is my bra?" I. Was. Crimson. I don't know another time I'd ever blushed that darkly, not even when Hoyt Fortenberry walked in on me while I was shaving in seventh grade. "And, Alcide – what in the Sam Hill is going on here?"

"Calm down chere – your clothes are on the chair in the corner. Please just let me finish telling you what happened….here, drink your coffee." I did some quick readjusting, transforming the quilt tangled around me into a make-shift toga. I still clutched it to me with one hand as I backed toward the chair after snatching the coffee away.

"Anyhow, last night, I called your Gran when you fell asleep. You'd only had four beers over three hours, but you weren't rousing – and I had had six so I didn't want to drive you." He admitted sheepishly. "So I called your Gran so she wouldn't worry."

He looked like he was remembering something, his face clouded a bit, "Why didn't you tell me that you worked three doubles and were a studying demon the past three days?"

"What? What difference does that make?" I snapped.

"I don't know – I would have planned on having the pizza ready at your place or I would have driven you yesterday morning, or we could have postponed…"

"Too late now – what happened?"

"You crashed. I called Gran – she said she figured this would happen. She said you probably wouldn't move until day break, but _she_ worried that you would be uncomfortable sleeping in your street clothes. She made me call her back from my cell so I could put you on speakerphone. She told you to take off your shorts and bra – which you did _after_ I covered you with that quilt – of course. I turned the lights down, put a note by the phone, kissed your cheek and went to bed. End of story."

I knew he was telling the truth – when I worked a streak of doubles like I did this week, I always ended up face down on the couch – Gran would come in, tell me to take off my shorts – I blushed again, realizing I was lucky that I was wearing looser fitting clothes. Half the time at home, my panties ended up on the floor when I pulled off my tight black shorts I wore as part of my Merlotte's uniform. I also had a tendency to fling the bra away – usually several feet – as I pulled off my arm through the shirt sleeve. I looked around for a minute and then at Alcide. I nodded and his faint blush – visible even through his dark working-man tan – told me he'd probably been on the receiving end of that lingerie projectile.

"Um, thank you for telling me, and for calling Gran. I know she'd've worried."

"Can I get you an aspirin? Do you have a headache?" he asked –

"No, no, I'm fine. Normally I can handle a few beers – especially over 3 hours. Gran was right – I was exhausted." I rocked my head on my spine, trying to work out that crick.

"So, let me run upstairs and get dressed, then I can make you breakfast. " His easy smile did wonders at making me feel at ease.

I pulled on my shorts and shove myself into my bra as I hooked it. As much as I wanted to bolt, Alcide had mentioned breakfast and my stomach was growly. I'd just grab my MacGyver kit from my school bag in the backseat so I could brush my teeth and freshen up. What I didn't realize is that the door would automatically lock itself behind me. I said a little prayer of thanks that I'd gone ahead and finished getting dressed before getting my kit. (At the farmhouse – I would run out to the car in my underwear, but I lived in the middle of nowhere. Alcide shared a driveway with three neighbors. I also realized that there was no way I could drive away – physically – I'd had four beers and I didn't think I broke the seal last night, but my bladder would implode in less than sixty seconds. I tried to put on my best sheepish grin as I reached for the doorbell. Alcide threw open the door before I had a chance – still shirtless, tooth brush in hand (and in mouth, judging by the minty foam in his morning whiskers. "Sookie wait…what, where are you going?"

"Just grabbing my toothbrush!" I smiled, holding up my kit, and bolted to the bathroom. I made it with about three seconds to spare. I took my time: brushing my teeth, washing my face, brushing my hair, until I felt put together enough to look him in the eye. I didn't have to work until five tonight, so I'd have plenty of time to go home and shower after a nice breakfast with Alcide.

When I emerged, Alcide was wearing a black wife-beater tank with black Adidas basketball shorts and of course, his soccer sandals – I was relieved that he didn't wear them with socks when he wasn't wearing long pants. He was standing by his stove, watching bacon fry. Coffee brewing, bacon frying and a handsome man – I supposed the embarrassment was worth it and I let out a content little sigh. He heard me and turned around with a smile showing his perfect pearly whites. He reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me to him. I put my arm around his waist – giving a little half hug. He put down his tongs and tilted my chin up towards him. He leaned down and gave me a very memorable, if entirely too brief kiss. I smiled, biting my bottom lip. "Next time you're that wore out, let me know – you can just use the spare room if you need it."

I nodded then cleared my throat. "So what can I do to help?"

"Oh no you don't Stackhouse – this is one of the few things I know how to cook well – you just march yourself to the table and get ready to have breakfast chez Alcide."

I laughed and sat at the old oak table. The radio was tuned to a car show just loud enough to make the quiet between us easy. Turns out, Breakfast chez Alcide was eggs in a basket cooked in the bacon grease with a picante sauce heavy with cilantro. We both cleaned our plates and laughed about this morning and how absolutely uncoordinated we both were upon waking. I drank another cup of coffee and a glass of water, but I didn't want to overstay my welcome, so I gathered my things to go home. As he hugged me goodbye – no kiss, that picante was hotter than Hades – he whispered in my ear. "It was so good to have you here – maybe we could modify this into a test celebrating tradition." I blushed and nodded as he gave me a small open mouthed kiss, high on the side of my neck, just below my ear. I shivered as he walked me to my car and stood there waving as I drove away.

The next time I spent the night at Alcide's it was far less virtuous, but a lot more fun.

**Author's Questions (this chapter): What kind of pizza do you like or hate? Do you use your chin to put on a pillow case (I'm actually very curious about this one)? Are you prone to the power of suggestion while sleeping? Do you want to hear about Sookie's next adventure to Alcide's?**

**Questions for upcoming chapters: Do you get nervous around authority figures even if you've done nothing wrong?**

**Also, just as a head's up – I probably won't post from 4/25 to 5/1: baby's first birthday, bro's 30****th****, mom's 60****th**** and great-grandma's 90****th**** in a week! Hopefully I'll knock out one more before that. :) As always, thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Please Hold – Chapter 12**

**Author's Note – We're hanging out in the present for a while folks – at least three chapters as I see it. Thank you for all the alerts and to my faithful reviewers. Just to be clear: This is not my sandbox; I'm just building an income free castle – it all belongs to Ms. Harris. Sorry about the delay – would you believe I spent Saturday night at 90****th**** birthday party with a Marine Corps motorcycle club? Thanks to Ms. MerryCain who had this edit ready for me so quickly. **

The drive to work was quick – not many people were on the few blocks of road as I drove to work. The parking lot attendant greeted me cheerfully, telling me he'd had an email that I was coming and my space was on the second level just past the elevator. I thanked him and followed the signs, finally parking in the pace marked "Assistant to E. Northman." It was seven am on the nose, so I decided to take a few minutes to collect myself. I left the car running – radio on and doors locked. I took off my flip flops, zipping them into a zippered bag and pushing them to the bottom of the large tote I was using for a purse. I checked to make sure my phone was locked before sliding it into a convenient pocket. I checked my hair in the vanity mirror – Perfection by Lafayette Reynolds. I smiled at myself over that – what a great perfume name. I contorted myself to slip on my pale green pumps – they matched the light part of the leaves in my dress and were more comfortable than most. I was snapped out of my early morning pop reverie when the sound of a huge engine overrode the sounds of Lady Gaga. A beautiful deep blood red corvette– it must have been custom, I like Chevrolet and all, but Detroit doesn't have a red that sexy as a standard color. I hadn't even thought to look, but my space was just to the left of the space marked 'reserved for E. Northman'. I double checked the clock on the radio and my watch, not even five past seven. Nan said if I got here before seven thirty I'd have plenty of time to go over everything before Mr. Northman got there. I watched as he gracefully unfurled himself from the car. I snapped up my car mirror and jumped when he knocked on the passenger side window after trying the door. I quickly found the power window button.

He smiled, "You're learning." I laughed as I waited for the window to roll all the way up before I turned off the car and climbed out. It was less graceful than his exit, but I figured he couldn't really see me. I stood, and set my travel coffee mug on top of the roof as I bent to pull my bag out of the passenger side. I stood up, setting my bag down and pulling on my jacket. I closed the door and locked it with the button that made the car chirp then grabbed my mug. I turned to bend and get my bag, but Mr. Northman was holding it out to me. I realized he wasn't wearing office attire, but a form fitting t-shirt and basketball shorts with sneakers. I slung my bag over my shoulder and stammered out a quick thanks. I was relieved when he turned around, then I got an eyeful – I paused, checked for drool and then followed him to the elevator. We rode down in silence – no Muzak in the garage elevators apparently. On the ground floor, we walked into the side entrance of the main lobby. I hadn't really taken a good look at it yesterday when I came for the interview I had been too preoccupied to pay much attention. I stopped and looked up. It was a big steel and glass area that went up a few stories before running into the trunk of the taller stories. Escalators crisscrossed the expansive space – Glass walled elevator tubes were in the center and white walkways seemed to float across the space with glass and steel railings. I twirled slowly as I looked up and up. I heard Mr. Northman's steps pause and when I turned back to him, he was looking up as well. "It's best seen at this time of day – the sunshine filling up the space instead of so many busy ants marching."

I nodded. "I know there is an accounting office on the sixth floor, but what else is in this building?" He looked at me and led me to the central directory map.

"Well, on this floor, there is our main reception," he jerked his head towards the closed oak doors behind him. "The visitors' kiosk" pointing to the stand up desk centered between the escalators, "behind the elevators is a branch of a local credit union – we don't bank with them, but they do offer complementary services for our employees – no ATM fees and the like."

"Level two has a few shops and a café. There is also an incredible baker. She does amazing work – mostly catering like specialty cakes, but she also has a small walk up counter open in the mornings. Pam is a big fan of the vintage boutique, although she complains they don't carry many clothes for her Twiggy body type. Third floor is doctors – an allergy specialist and a dermatologist – they're both on our health plan, and a couple of shrinks I think. I don't know anything about them other than they pay their rent." I thought that was a strange statement. "Four is the sharks – all lawyers – mostly civil law, but I think one of the partners specializes in criminal law. Building management has an office there too. The manager will join us for lunch on Monday – I hope you don't mind." I shook my head no. "Good, she has a small setup and will sometimes have to route her calls through you – but she's one of the best I've had in any of my buildings."

"Your buildings?" I asked with a raised eyebrow – looking back, I'm not sure why I was surprised.

"Yes, Mine, I own a few here in town outright and a few others in partnership with the firm."

"How does that work?" I didn't realize until after I said it how nosy that sounded.

He shrugged. " I rent the space to the firm – for a reasonable price of course – and I'm very reasonable about remodeling. Now the glass elevators stop at five – there is a small gym – membership is complementary to RN and D staff – should you become too good of friends with the baker on two." He smirked. "Five also has access to the main elevator – that's where the general public can get to the accounting office. During the day, most people go through our lobby, but after hours, the elevators require you to have a badge key to get off the elevator on one of our floors if it stops on two through six. If you forget your badge, it puts you out on 2 and you have to walk down the escalator – they turn it off at six fifteen."

"The remaining floors are RN and D – I.T. on seven, junior execs on eight, conference rooms and file storage on nine and of course, we're on ten. The main elevator does go to the roof where the physical plant is, although we have a few backups set up in the sublevel and on five." He checked his watch and started walking towards the oak doors. "I'll let you into our lobby. Take the express elevator up – Nan should have you badge and everything together shortly". I nodded

He waved his badge in front of the digital reader and I heard the lock click open. He was holding the door for me when he looked towards the main entrance of the building. He hurried towards it as he called to me to hold the door. I managed to keep the door from shutting as the heavy oak smacked into me with a thud much softer then the one I felt on my backside. I heaved it back as I realized Mr. Northman went to hold the entrance door for a small Indian woman and what I assumed was here son in a neon orange power wheel chair. I kept the door open as they went through – Mr. Northman nodded at me and I let it close behind us. As we walked across main reception and in the open work area towards the elevators Mr. Northman made introductions. "Sookie – this is Indira and her son Clancy. Indira, Clancy, this is my new assistant, Sookie." She and I exchanged "Pleased-to-meet-yous" and I asked Jordan how it's going. I got a mocking reply of "On rechargeable batteries." Indira, it turned out, worked in the accounting office, but didn't like to use the glass elevators when she was taking her son to the doctor, because it was so slow. She invited me to meet her for lunch next week and a tour of the non-RN and D parts of the building and I readily agreed.

Mr. Northman interrupted our chit-chat after a few minutes of matched eye rolling with Clancy. "Sookie – go on and head up to the office – tell Nan I'll be up in about an hour – oh and take my briefcase if you don't mind."

"Yes Sir, See ya'll later" I took the proffered case and waved as the doors closed.

Nan was at the central desk when the elevator stopped and whooshed open. She looked relieved. "I'm glad you're here – I thought I'd have to come get you. How did you get in?"

"I met Mr. Northman in the parking lot – I think he's headed to the gym. He said he'd be here in an hour." She nodded. "Where should I put this?" I asked – holding up his briefcase.

"Oh – on his desk." I walked into the dark office and laid the case on its side in the center of his desk. Nan was waiting by my desk when I came back in. She pointed at my chair and I sat down.

She took a deep breath and consulted here steno pad that must have a list. "Ok, Russell will be here shortly with your badge. The caterer will be here at ten forty-five to set up. Do you think we should use the kitchen up here or a conference room downstairs?"

"The kitchen," I said immediately, "or if we can set up a table in Mr. Northman's office. I think that would make everyone more comfortable. The caterer should still set up in the kitchen." Nan tapped her bottom lip for a few seconds, then nodded and picked up the phone.

"Hello? Belinda? This is Nan on ten. Can you send up a folding table?" She paused,"Six or eight feet would be fine." Another pause, "Thank you."

"One should be up from the basement in a few minutes. Now, Russell emailed you a few tutorials – work through them at your desk over the next few days. Don't worry about getting them done at home – it's not a huge rush. Having said that – do you have a way to access your email from home – besides your phone?"

"Yes ma'am – I have a laptop with Wi-Fi."

"Check with Russell, it needs to be secure. You do need to check your emails a couple times over the weekends." I reached in my bag and got out my own pad to start making a list. "Mr. Northman will sync up his schedule with yours at lunch tomorrow, so today – you'll just be on his phone and of course, acting as Detective Bellefleur's handler. Expect calls from the other assistants today, mostly it should just be a get-to-know you type of thing and only any major messages. Alessandro usually calls towards the end of his day, so in the next couple of hours. Miriam and Barry will both check in after two. The only thing on your agenda tomorrow is your lunch with Mr. Northman; I imagine it will be rather long. Take the rest of the afternoon off – I'm sure you have some things to take care since you've been wrapped up in the whirlwind of hiring. Email Halliegh in HR. She can bring you anymore forms we need and let you know all the details of your benefits. I've set up your new hire physical for next Monday at three pm. Pass that on to Miriam and Barry so they'll call in before you are out. Ms. Ravenscroft will be here on Tuesday or Wednesday – I'm sure you'll get the full rundown from Miriam them."

"Mr. Northman told me you have a parking tag now, and that you're thinking of walking here sometimes. I noticed your address yesterday – it's probably fine to walk here during the day, but not at night. Soon the days will be too hot for that even at sunrise."

I nodded. "I'll probably look for a car this weekend. I'm sharing with my Gran and my landlord sometimes lets me borrow – I just wanted to get a job before I spent that kind of money."

"Very sensible, but you have that job now. Do you need a local bank recommendation? Many auto loans are cheaper through them than the dealerships."

"Um, no thanks, I have enough saved up to just buy something small and reasonably new and reliable. I'm not one to buy much on credit." I shrugged.

"I like you more each day Sookie Stackhouse – now boot up that computer and get busy." She held up her mug – "would you like some coffee, I'm grabbing a refill."

"Sure, thanks." I turned to my computer terminal and got busy working. Russell had sent a brief typing test, and several basic level tutorials. I sighed and got started, thanking Nan again when she brought a cup of coffee – just the way I like it. She must have been paying attention yesterday. Another thought popped into my brain.

"How does Mr. Northman take his coffee? Am I supposed to have it ready?"

"Usually he'll ask if he wants more than a cup in the morning. You'll know which mug is his. He drinks it black." I nodded and went back to the painfully slow step-by-step walkthrough of various RN and D programs. Nan mercifully interrupted about ten minutes later to give me a rundown of the phone system and we practiced making, holding and transferring calls before anyone else was in the office. I did have a small cheat sheet – I figured I'd use it for a week or so then make a final version to laminate. The elevator dinged and the phone rang at the same time. I saw it was the direct line to Mr. Northman's office. Two men walked in carrying what looked a small wooden card table and several table leaves. Ms. Flanagan directed them to Mr. Northman's office as I answered the phone.

"Eric Northman's office, may I help you?" I chirped.

"Ciao, this is Alessandro. Do I have the pleasure of speaking with a Miss Sookie Stackhouse?" asked a pleasant young man's voice laced with a slight Mediterranean accent.

"Yes, this is Sookie. Good morning."

He had a rich easy laugh, "Good morning to you – good afternoon to me. Signore Ocella is off for a long weekend at Lake Geneva – he'll be back in Tuesday sometime. He's there with his dear friend Magdalene. She'll touch base with me every day – I'm taking in a nice long weekend myself, so unless you need something, I'll call you Monday. Send me a text if something comes up, yes?"

"Yes of course, Thank you for calling. Enjoy your little holiday." I gushed

"Prego. Ciao!" He hung up. I smiled. I wondered if he was always that cheerful, or just when getting ready for the weekend.

"Sookie – tell me if you think this looks right." Nan called from Mr. Northman's office. Without much rearranging, they had set up a long gleaming table. Instead of the rather average folding plastic and steel table I was expecting, that small card table pulled apart to add leaves and set up an elegant table that didn't clash with the somber, elegant room at all.

"There are table linens in the kitchen – we'll get it set after the caterer arrives." Nan explained then turned to thank the men for setting up the table.

Russell came in a few minutes after the table guys left. He went down on one knee and bowed his head, "A rose for a rose." With a flourish of waving hands, he held out my badge key with an origami flower stuck to it. He had 'painted' it red by scribbling with red pen all over a both sides of a sheet of typing paper.

I stood, curtsying and said "Thank you kind sir," pretending to sniff the 'rose' – it looked more like a lotus, but I wasn't going to say anything. I looked over at Nan and be both burst into laughter. At that moment, the express elevator dinged and Mr. Northman stepped out. Nan and I fell silent. He took in the site before him – Russell on one knee and me holding a flower.

"Damn it, Russell." I jumped, slightly shocked for a second. "I thought my secretary would at least be safe from you stealing her away. What is going on in your department?" He used a stern tone, but there was an easy smile on his face.

Stan stood up and brushed himself off. "We write algorithms on wooing pretty girls during our coffee breaks. Didn't you get my memo? I asked if you wanted in on it." He deadpanned. After taking a second to eye Mr. Northman – obviously fresh from the gym – he continued. "At least we don't smell like a horse's arm pit." He drawled with a wrinkled nose.

At that, Mr. Northman laughed – a hearty and deep laugh, "Excuse me ladies while I go clean up. Sookie, please bring me a cup of coffee in about forty five minutes?"

"Of course, sir" I noticed as he walked by that he didn't smell that bad – mostly like deodorant and fresh man sweat, not the stinking body odor of someone with no hygiene or the stink that drunk men put off. I said a silent thanks be for my barmaid days being firmly behind me.

"Russell – got your text about my laptop – tell me about it while I get ready."Russell nodded and they both disappeared behind the office door.

I sighed and set the rose and badge on my desk. I decided to get through more of the tutorials before Russell left in case I had questions. As I worked my way through a how to click and double click tutorial and onto a copy paste tutorial, I found my arm tensing as I clicked with annoyance. Russell took that moment to come out of Mr. Northman's office behind him. I checked the time – twenty more minutes before making coffee, then shot Mr. Edgington a hateful look.

"WHAT? Are you jealous I saw him in only his boxer briefs?"

I rolled my eyes. _Yes!_ "No! It's these tutorials! I'm grinding my teeth out of boredom."

"Really?" His eyes lit up, "Let me drive Rose, I want to see your progress." I obediently popped up and let him have at it. He did his warp speed typing clicking Jedi mind tricks and was looking over my data – he gave a low whistle. "My, my, my, rosy girl – you have exceeded my expectations." He squinted and scrolled though the screen. "You know the shortcut keys for an eñe and cedilla? Really?" I shrugged and he clicked some more. "I'll send you a competency test – you'll ace most of it I'm sure, then I can send some more tutorials more tailored to your skill set." I smiled and gave a sigh of relief.

"Russell, I've been to school for this. How could anyone graduate these days without knowing how to use a mouse, much less several shortcut keys in Word?"

"Oh, you're so sweet and naïve, my dear girl!" He stood up, and steered me back into my chair. "I'm pretty familiar with most of the office technology programs in the area and believe me when I tell you, some have much higher standards than others. You went to a program out of the area that I wasn't familiar with. I didn't want you to fall flat by sending something too hard on your first day."

"Well, thanks I guess, but don't worry about pulling punches in the future, ok?"

"As you wish" he said with a bow and walked to the elevators. I shook my head and tapped my flower and badge. I tried to open my desk.

"Nan – sorry to bug you, but I've got a few of those pesky first day questions."

"Hit me."

"Where can I get a badge clip like yours? And is there somewhere I can put my bag? Should I have keys to this desk?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Your desk is completely bare – come with me, I'll show you the supply closet." I followed her into the workroom and she showed me several cabinets next to the copier that held various supplies. "Help yourself – If you need a specific product that we don't have here, let me know – I can order for Monday – let me get back out by the phone."

I took her at her word and started piling things in a paper box top. I picked up sharpies, several different colored pens, a dozen medium point black ball points, a center drawer organizer that I loaded with clips and fasteners. I grabbed an ergonomic stapler, several hanging and regular file folders – a rainbow of various sized post-its, a carbonless two copy message book, a top bound spiral notebook and its mini-me. I also dug around and found a group appointment book with multiple columns for different people like at the dentist's office. I thought this would come in handy if I needed to keep track of all of the executives, and their assistants. There were also month at a glance inserts, so I picked them up too. I managed to get it all to my desk in one trip by hugging the massive pile to my chest as I shuffled quickly, tucking the top of the stack under my chin. I felt like I'd won a shopping spree at Office Depot.

Nan saw my loot and smiled, "Here are keys for your desk and the central desk – keep shared files in there, personal files and projects in yours. The rest is for your own storage. Keep this second ring in your desk. It's mostly for the filing cabinets on nine– everything is labeled – use them when you need them." I nodded and unlocked the desk. Nan hadn't been kidding – it was bare – not even a speck of dust or an ink stain in any of the drawers. I put the origami flower in the top left drawer – I noticed that the desks around here seemed to be clear of clutter – not even family pictures were out. I decided to keep my fun things and mementos there. I set the organizer in place in my center drawer. I dropped my bag into the bag at the back of my file drawer – slid the divider back and put in the hanging files, using a couple of them to hold the regular file folders. The extra keys, message book, and appointment calendar went in my top right drawer with put them in my top right drawer. The stapler, tape dispenser, and families of sticky notes went in the drawer below. I left the bottom one empty – I figured it would fill up soon. Once I had all that situated, I pulled out the appointment book and filled out what little I information I had and was about to start on the new skills test Russell had just emailed me, but I realized it was time to get Mr. Northman's coffee.

I went to the kitchen and a new pot was brewing. Nan was right, I knew his cup immediately. It was blood red with _Vikings do it better_ in jazzy script. I chuckled as I filled it up and went to knock on his door.

"Mr. Northman? I have your coffee." I called

"Oh, come on in," was the muffled reply.

I pushed the door open and nearly dropped the coffee. He was buttoning the cuffs of his very nice white dress shirt – before he had buttoned it closed. There was no undershirt – just chiseled pectorals dusted with golden hair and lickable abdominals. This thought passing through my head made me spin around and face the wall.

"I-I'm sorry; I thought you said come in" I stammered out – trying to push down my blush.

"I did, I'm sorry – I forget that modesty standards can be different here – please just give me a moment." I heard a quick zip and the rustling of fabric, followed by a second zip.

"Okay, I'm decent _and_ clothed."

I turned around and held out his coffee. He plucked it from my hand taking a sip, before setting it on the new table. He went to the mirror on the back of his door to arrange his belt and tie his tie. "Where should we have lunch tomorrow? Do you like Greek food? I know a great place for it."

"Sure that sounds fine."

"Call Athos on Decatur and set up an 11:30 reservation."

"Yes sir." He went to his desk – still in bare feet. My mind wandered. _Is it true about the size of feet and man's other features? It was with Alcide, but I shouldn't jump to conclusions. I shouldn't even be thinking this. Start listening, he's talking!_

He held something out to me "Here's the door prop keep it in your desk when it's not in use."

"Yes sir, would you like it open now?

"Please." I nodded, opening the door and shoving the stop in place about the center hinge. I returned to my desk and Russell's new test.

Twenty minutes later I was getting a little antsy. I'd finished the test and emailed Russell that I had. I had sent an email to the human resources lady, and was about to start twiddling my thumbs when the phone rang. The phone line to the executive office light came on. "Ravenscroft, Northman and Davis – How may I help you?"

"_Get me Eric Northman now_." An oily voice demanded.

"I'm sorry sir. Mr. Northman is unavailable. May I take a message?"

"_Get that Vampire on the phone now – this is Victor Madden_." I was a little shocked at his working and tone; I also knew that there was no way Mr. Northman would talk to him.

"I'm sorry sir, He's really unavail…"

He interrupted me, snapping, "_Get him on the line now you little bitch_."

I slammed the phone down in its cradle and jerked my hand back as if I was burned. Nan stared at me as I felt the blood leave my face.

"I'm sorry. That was Victor Madden, he called me a bitch, so I just hung up. I'm sorry, it was instinct."

"Good instinct," Nan smirked. "Don't feel bad – you do the same thing anyone get abusive or trashy like that. Well, except for Mr. Ocella – He can be a little colorful, but usually he's good about not misdirecting his ire. IF you give him the silent treatment, he'll calm down and apologize. You don't need to tolerate language like that." I felt so relieved.

"Let me know if Victor or anyone else does that again." I jumped and put my hand over my now pounding heart. Mr. Northman stood in his office doorway. He spat the name with venom. "My employees are not punching bags for vermin." The phone line lit up again, showing the same number. I looked back at Mr. Northman.

"It's him again?" I nodded. He stepped to my desk, letting it ring twice more before leaning over me to pickup my extension.

"Victor?" he barely paused.

"Stop talking...NOW." very brief pause

"You will not have a conversation with me for the rest of this week. If you speak to any of my employees that way again, it will be a month. Are we clear?" I heard bits of that oily voice drip out of the headset.

"Not what I asked Victor. Now, are we clear?"

"Good" he hung up the phone. He turned to Nan. "Show her how to look up my contacts. Sookie, call Sandy Seacrest and request that Mr. de Castro call me at his earliest convenience."

"Yes Sir." He stalked back into his office. Nan showed me how to access his address book. I tried to be professional about what I read in the comment section of some of his personal contacts – but they reminded me of things my brother scrawls in his little black book. I tried not to flush when I read notes like FB (weekdays only) or A+ BJ. I pushed the thoughts out of my head and decided I was probably jumping to conclusions, quickly dialing Ms. Seacrest instead.

"De _Castro and Associates, this is Sandy_," She answered in a no nonsense tone.

"Hello, this is Sookie Stackhouse from Mr. Northman's office. He'd like to request a call from Mr. DeCastro at his earliest convenience."

"_He'll be out of the office until noon – I believe that's two p.m. your time – is that acceptable?_"

"Yes ma'am – Thank you"

"_It's on the schedule – good day_." She hung up. I wondered if I would ever say goodbye on the phone again. I called to make the lunch reservation tomorrow and shot Russell a question about what I needed for home Wi-Fi to make it secure. Across our reception area, Nan stood up and checked her watch. "Call down to Felicia in main reception, tell her to take our calls and forward anything important to my cell."

I checked my extension list and made the call. Felicia agreed kindly. She also said welcome to the company and invited me for coffee when I was a little more settled. I agreed and promised to let her know when we were back in the office. Nan and I went down a level to the deserted conference room floor. She showed me the handy dolly that would lift a stack of chairs with the turn of a crank. She pointed out the filing room, introducing me to the records keeper, Jannalynn. She seemed way to young and tough to be the one keeping up with files. She and Nan explained that they kept most files in electronic format – there were hard copies in cold storage, but mostly, the only thing they kept on hand were signed documents that were needed. Together they gave me a rundown of the system and the standalone database that they kept the general index on. She went on to explain that it was backed up weekly and kept in a safety deposit box across town. Furthermore, Russell had quarterly updates kept in a secure vault in a former salt mine in Kansas – also known as Cold Storage. Jannalynn had apparently been the reason the flooded warehouse that Nan mentioned wasn't so devastating. Apparently – records keeping was all about the backups. She roped me into taking home back up files on Thursday nights – starting next week. After I agreed, Nan and I said our goodbyes and wheeled our stack of chairs into the elevator and back out into Mr. Northman's office. He took over the minute we came in – scolding us for not calling someone to bring up the chairs. I'll admit – that got my back up a little.

"Now listen here, I can move chairs just fine, I used to have to put up a bar full of 'em on tables when I was waitressing and that was after a busy shift – a dolly to bring up chairs in an elevator is a cake walk." _Automatic mouth, I haven't missed you. _

"Are you quite done?" He smirked.

"Y-yes sir."

"Now I would prefer you do the job I _pay_ you to do and let my maintenance staff do the job they are _paid_ to do. Or do you really want to singlehandedly raise the unemployment rate in this city?"

"N-no sir…"

"That will be all – please get the table set when the caterer arrives. He pushed the last chair up to the table and stalked silently back to his desk.

Nan gave me a shut-up-right-now look and I went silently back to my own desk. I took a deep breath, saw that Russell had sent an in depth tutorial on accessing the phone system through the computer. I decided to get a fresh cup of coffee before I returned to my desk. After getting the fancy headset with a USB jack from Nan, I checked in with Felicia who said there were no calls. I got busy learning how to check voicemails and answer calls through my computer. The headset I used was required – Russell had included a rather technical (read detailed and dry) explanation of why Bluetooth headsets were verboten – they were not secure. I'd tried using Alcide's once and it hurt my ear anyhow. The approved headsets – had a band over the head that was far more comfortable – one had a single earpiece/mic combo while the other covered both ears. The rest of the morning passed in at a steady pace, and finally, the caterer arrived. Between Nan, her, and I, it was decided to set up a buffet in the kitchen with placemats on the conference table in Mr. Northman's office. Detective Bellefleur called at ten past eleven to say he was on his way, and asked if there was enough food for the stenographer – I assured him there was plenty. I finished off the phone tutorial and after checking with Nan to make sure the phones were answered, I knocked on Mr. Northman's door frame, popping my head inside.

"I'm going to the lobby to meet the Detective – he should be here in a few minutes."

"I'll be here, just bring him in"

"There's a stenographer too – I hope that's okay."

He sighed, "Of course – the more the merrier – let's just get this over with." I nodded and took the express elevator down to wait.

**Author's Note/Questions: Do you think the calm before the storm is just a weather phenomenon or does it happen in life and relationships as well? Also, what do you think of these questions? FYI – I write my answers in my profile if you're feeling curious. Also, I have some teasers for reviewers :) – and after twelve hours in the car with a one year old this weekend – I actually posted before having a happy hour. **

**I know some of you don't love the Alcide part of this story line, but I do – we'll be hanging out with him again soon (but not for another couple chapters – at least). **


	13. Chapter 13

**Please Hold – Chapter 13**

**Author's Note: This is Ms. Harris' resort – I'm just taking a vacation. Speaking of vacations – my beta is out of town – hope I caught most of the mistakes. **

* * *

The doors whooshed open in the main work area. I made my way to the front reception taking a moment to introduce myself to a bubbly Felicia. We exchanged pleasantries for a few moments until I saw a blocky man and a young woman come in. I knew he was Detective Bellefleur because his gold badge was pinned to his rumpled sports coat. If I had one word to describe him, I would use meaty. He was average height, stocky – he looked thick and strong, like a bull dog. His stenographer, Kenya Jones, was dark skinned and very pregnant, not that pregnancy is something you can do by halves – hers just showed all the way and then some. The first thing she said to me was "Where's the ladies?" in that desperate right-now-get-out-of-my-way that only pregnant women have. Tara used that tone frequently these days. I led her to the door and as I waited with the detective, he explained that the only food she'd been able to keep down with any kind of regularity was gumbo and Oliver's made some of the best. Plus, he felt like this was a safe job to take her on outside of the station house. Her fiancé, Kevin, would lose it if anything happened to her. She came out a few moments later, throwing her paper towel into a small trash can. "Thank you! I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but we were stuck in traffic for forty-five minutes."

"Not a problem, c'mon, lunch is waiting. I waved for them to follow me to the elevator.

When I reflect back on the events that followed, I can marvel that being human is amazing – how alike we are when we have such a kaleidoscope of surface differences. Kenya was dark to my light, but she got the same look and tinge of green I get when I'm nauseous. I really should have recognized it quicker. While I'd like to say I rejoiced in finding a kindred spirit, I mostly just wished to get her close to a trash can – and had the unkind thought that I hoped her typing was better than her aim as her sick hit my right leg, ankle, foot, and beautiful green pump.

Mr. Northman saw the whole thing and grabbed the chair from the desk opposite mine as he hollered to the caterer to bring a glass of water. Nan was on the phone to maintenance for someone with a mop when I felt someone easing me back into my own chair. Mr. Northman touched my arm and told me to stay put. Grabbing the still empty, spotless trash can and setting it before Mr. Jones. He continued into the office behind her. I could hear running water through the open door. A moment later, Mr. Northman reappeared, wheeling me away from the pile of sick and taking off my shoes gingerly. I realized he had a plastic tub of soapy water along with a roll of paper towels and a rag. He quickly wiped off my shoes and set them aside. He used more of the paper towels to wipe off the bulk of the ick off my leg and tossed them into the mess on the floor a few feet away. He took up the rag, dipping it in the soapy water, and wringing it out. He gently took my leg and washed it. After a few seconds, my brain reengaged and I managed to stammer out, "Mr. Northman, you don't have to…"

"Shhh…I can't have you tracking this all over my building." He went back to delicately cleaning my entire right leg from the knee down. I felt hot and not just from embarrassment. I looked around, trying to get a handle on the situation. Kenya did look embarrassed. Detective Bellefleur was trying to be helpful, but Nan had it under control, convincing her to just stay there and getting her a bowlful of that savory gumbo she craved.

I realized Eric had finally stopped his tease-torture-treatment of my leg and was busy texting. I pushed my chair back to my desk and dug my flip flops out of my bag. They were charcoal grey wedges with rhinestone flourishes and I will admit – I was glad the pumps were ruined instead of my glamfabulous sandals.

"Pam just sent me the address for a shoe place that will clean your shoes – I'm emailing you the address. Make sure you file for reimbursement."

"Okay, Thanks" I didn't want to make anyone more uncomfortable so I whispered, "What do we do now?" I jerked my head at our guests across the room.

"Your school records said you have a transcription certification. Can you type up the meeting? We can let Ms. Jones go home and rest."

"It's been a while, but yes. We should probably make a recording so I can double check it."

"Not a problem. I'm sure the detective will want a recording anyway – plus – I can show you how to use the equipment. I already told Russell to give you my laptop when mine comes in – you might as well be a registered user. I'll get it set up. Make nice, eat lunch and get the detective in my office in twenty minutes. If you can, get the puking avenger to take a car home."

"What about your lunch?"

"Fortunately, I ate when you went to get the detective – I just want to get this over with"

"Yes sir" I checked my watch and walked over to our visitors.

"Detective Bellefleur. What would you like to eat?"

"Don't worry about that, I'm just sorry – are you okay?"

"I'm fine – It could've been a lot worse – now let's just get you some food and get this show on the road. I nudged him toward the kitchen. I turned to Kenya, "Ms. Jones would you like me to call you a car? I think junior has earned you an afternoon off."

"I should stay and work…" She trailed off as I gave her a pointed look – then shifted my eyes to where a custodian was busy cleaning in front of the elevator and back to her, "but you're probably right – I have a doctor's appointment in a few hours. I really just want to rest."

"Are you oaky with this Andy? Give me a few more minutes and I can stay." To his credit, Detective Bellefleur didn't act like it was his heart's dream to get her out of there – he just reassured her that it would be handled and he'd be grateful for her help tomorrow. Nan took over – insisting on calling a car and assuring her not to worry. We'd send her the transcripts with the tape to double check everything. She also pressed a sizeable to-go container on her and then leading her to the elevator to the main elevator, promising to stop every other floor so the momentum wouldn't be too much.

I managed to get the detective to make a plate. He had his gumbo with a shrimp po'boy washed down with sweet iced tea and lemon. I settled for a shrimp po'boy, coleslaw and tea. I'm not much of a gumbo fan and I do love spicy étouffée – but only when I can wash it down with an ice cold beer. I was hoping there would be some left over to take home. Usually I like to take my time eating, but we'd been delayed long enough. Truthfully, I was glad to have an excuse not to have time to reflect on some of the nerve endings that had been set off by Mr. Northman's touch. Detective Bellefleur wasn't shy about eating quickly either. He didn't seem to mind eating on at the employee lunch table and was very complimentary of the lunch.

We made our way back to Mr. Northman's office almost within the twenty minute time limit. I paused at the door, putting my hand on the doorstop and raising my eyebrows. He nodded and I took it out and tossed it under my desk before making my way to the laptop at the table. I sat at the foot of the table, while the two men sat on either side.

"Detective, I'm sure you will be making your own recording, but as my assistant will be typing it up and for my own peace of mind, we'll be recording as well. There is a room mic on the laptop and I have an analogue recorder as well" he held up a small tape recorder. "Ms. Hopper, our records keeper feels backups are important."

"No problem – this has been quite the ordeal over a fairly simple mugging, but since the accused's sister seems rather litigiously minded, it is probably better to be thorough."

"Ah, so is Ms. Stonebrook threatening to sue the New Orleans Police Department too? And here I thought I was special." Mr. Northman mock pouted his hurt.

"I'm sure you understand why I can't comment on that." The detective was nodding an emphatic _yes_ as he dryly explained.

"Ok, let's get this show on the road. Ms. Stackhouse, just hit the red record button and give us a nod when you're ready. Do we need to speak slower?"

"No Sir, unless you'd like me to comment or answer anything, then just please give me a moment to catch up before I speak."

"No problem. Alright with you detective?"

"Sure."

"I'm hitting record now." I chimed in as I did just that. I heard the two men click record on their recording devices.

"This is Detective Andrew Bellefleur. I am interviewing Mr. Eric Northman in the presence of his assistant, Ms. Sookie Stackhouse, using multiple recording devices. Mr. Northman, Ms. Stackhouse, before we get started, I will have to ask you to state several things for the record." Both of us responded in turn that it was fine. We went through the date today and the date of the incident, also spelling out our full names with birthplaces. I found out Mr. Northman was born in a small Swedish village near Stockholm. I mentally filled that away under thin_gs to bring up when conversations need to be turned_. He also went on the record, explaining his mother was an American, and he had had dual citizenship from birth.

"Mr. Northman, while you are not under arrest, nor are you a suspect in any crime to my knowledge, I'd like to make sure you are aware of your rights."

"That's fine"

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one can be appointed to you free of charge. Do you understand these rights?"

"I do."

"Would you consent to continuing this interview without the presence of an attorney, with these rights in mind?"

"I would."

"Okay, in your own words please explain what happened last Thursday morning at approximately six a.m."

"I was on the way out of the gym on Louisiana Street. I had walked to the Starbucks two blocks away, on my way back, I was approaching the chase bank – it has one of those walk up ATMs. There was an elderly woman arguing and fighting with two young people – a man and a woman. She screamed that he was trying to take her purse. I dropped my coffee and went to separate them, that's when I saw the knife. " I was typing furiously and trying not to think, but I definitely had plenty of thoughts later – and they were far more interesting that my favorite crime dramas.

"The young man was holding a small knife by his leg. When I called for them to stop – he thrust the blade towards me – I pushed my gym bag into it. He tossed it aside, although, I didn't see the blade then, so I think it may have been caught in my bag – I would assume you know detective, the police took it into custody when they arrived later.

"Anyhow, he was still advancing toward me. The young woman had run away at that point and the older woman was getting out her cell phone. He moved to punch me and I caught his fist and grabbed his shoulder. I think I pushed him backwards while I kicked his feet out from under him. I couldn't see the knife anymore, but I was still worried about it and wanted to keep him from getting to close to me or the older lady. I may have been yelling or grunting. I made my sister take a self-defense course last summer and she made me tag along. They said you should use your voice – it makes you less of an easy victim. I think he hit his head against the building, but it happened really fast. I was just glad that he stayed down. I stood next to the old woman and opened her nitroglycerin bottle while she talked to the 911 operator. It's just a few blocks from a local station, so there were several cops there with in a minute or two.

"I actually had a jury summons so the officers at the ATM asked some questions and confiscated my bag. Fortunately, I'd changed for the day. Since my keys were still in said bag and I didn't want to wait for them to be processed and released to me, a patrolman gave me a ride to the courthouse and explained to the bailiff on duty what was going on.

"You may not know this, but there is no bucking a line at the courthouse – especially in the one to be excused from jury duty. By the time I left, the patrol man was gone and I was meeting my lawyer for lunch on another matter. When I explained what happened, he insisted that he'd handle it. The detective I was supposed to meet with Monday cancelled and never got back to me." He stopped talking and it seemed like the detective was waiting for me to finish, so I looked up once I was done typing.

"This concludes our interview of the witness, Eric Northman. Ms. Stackhouse, you may stop typing. I stopped typing, but looked at Mr. Northman, eyeing the tape recorders on the table. He reached to turn his off and nodded at me. I stopped it and immediately saved a copy to the hard drive, and one to my network drive with password protection. The detective reached out and switched off his recorder too. He continued. "When these are formally typed, I'll bring them for your signature. Do you have a notary?"

"Ms. Flanagan is a notary, as are several other employees." Mr. Northman explained. "That went easier than I expected. The other detective made it sound like it would be hours."

"Off the record?" The detective looked at both of us until we nodded."We have a bit more evidence now, and know a bit more about the subject. The bank finally released the ATM video – I watched it on the way over. That and the lab matched the fingerprints all over the knife to Mr. Stonebrook. Everything matched up with what you just told me. We also searched his apartment – and found a lovely meth lab in the master bath last night. I apologize for be so brusque with you yesterday, Miss Stackhouse, but I was wading through bureaucratic red tape to my eyeballs and was at my wit's end. Thank you for the lunch – it was a joy to get out of the office today. We're going to be processing the Stonebrooks' property for a while in addition to filing for several crimes. The sister has been locked up and her lawyer quit after he realized the situation. The assistant DA will cut them some kind of deal to skip going to trial, but she told me only if she could lock in that they'd be behind bars for at least ten years _before_ being eligible for parole."

"That's more than fair. And better than he deserves," Mr. Northman grumbled.

"Did you want to see the security tape?"

Mr. Northman shrugged, "Why not?" The detective dug pulled his laptop out of the bag and set it up.

"It's time lapse – only records pictures every twenty seconds, unless there is motion in front of it. Then it records about five frames per minute" He clicked a few things and queued it up to the right time. Mr. Northman and I stood behind him. "This is you walking by seven minutes earlier to get your coffee. The receipt was in the bag, so we already confirmed you were there with the barista – he's got quite the crush on you."

Mr. Northman rolled his eyes, "I'm aware." He said dryly.

"Here is their would-be victim, a Ms. Octavia Fant, coming up to the ATM – she said she normally doesn't carry cash, but was going to play bingo with a few friends that evening and was picking up some 'mad money' as she called it." We watched as the tiny, white haired woman walked up, card ready to go in hand.

"I know her! She's Amelia's boss at the bookstore – I think she owns it." As she tucked her money into her pocket book after she completed the transaction, a greasy, twitchy young man grabbed at her purse. You could also see the dirty feet of a woman in flip flops at the edge of the frame. I suppose he expected the purse would break and he could dash away. Ms. Fant obviously bought quality when she accessorized - it was one of those big soft bottomed leather sacks with a sturdy magnet snap at the top and wide leather straps. _Sensible and practical never go out of style_, my Gran would say. I don't think the greasy attacker expected her to yell and kick instead of just handing it over. He brandished a knife at her. Mr. Northman came flying into the frame then, throwing his gym bag with such force, I wouldn't be surprised if tweaker had half the wind knocked out of him. He just threw down the bag and kept coming. It would have been a blur had it not been recorded in the strobe like security footage. Mr. Northman caught his fist and swung his other arm, grabbing his attacker and sweeping his legs out, just as smoothly as walking across a room. I felt his hand squeeze mine and let go. Looking down I realized I must have grabbed his hand when I saw the knife.

"That must have been really scary."

He shrugged, "Not really, the knife spooked me, but I was already mad about having to go to jury duty and all I could think was 'this punk had better not make me late.' If I had more time to think about it, I probably would have been more worried."

"The adrenaline does that – it's part of your fight or flight response, the parts of your brain that would really analyze everything kind of shut down, so you can take action faster." I turned around, and looked at the detective as he explained while packing up his laptop. I had forgotten he was in the room.

"Ms. Stackhouse, would you get an e-copy of this recording and transcript for the detective and prepare one for Ms. Hopper to archive? Also, I think the caterer brought far too much food – see if she can box up some of it for Mr. Bellefleur to take with him. Have Nan call down to Halliegh in HR – I know they wanted to make sure our PR is ready if any of this makes the papers." I nodded and he turned back to the detective. "I have a few other unrelated questions for you if you can spare me a few minutes Bellefleur." I walked out of the office with the laptop to transfer the files and talk with Nan, letting the door close softly behind me. Nan told me where I could get the thumb drives to save the files and hurriedly called down to HR. I saved and encrypted the files and got them ready to go, along with hard copies of the transcription. Halliegh Robinson came up and was going over the details from the transcription when Mr. Northman opened his door and followed detective Bellefleur out. I missed the first look and introductions, as I was propping the door open and gathering everything together for the detective to leave, but when I turned around, I realized that if we ever needed someone to handle the detective again, it would be the pretty brunette from human resources. I think they were already planning a date before they set foot on the elevator. The detective did pause to thank me again – and I waved them both off. I decided to take the stairs down to Ms. Hopper's office with the files; Nan volunteered to work the phones. Jannalynn cheerfully showed me how to catalogue everything and sent me on my way.

When I returned, the caterer was putting everything back on her cart and waiting for the elevator. I smiled and thanked her again, and a third time when she told me she'd boxed up several helpings of the étouffée and placed it in the fridge for me. Nan told me who to call in maintenance to get the table and have a note made that the kitchen be thoroughly cleansed by the evening cleaning crew – and to have the floor mopped again.

I did go into the kitchen to at least tidy up a bit, but I discovered there was nothing to be done – everything had been cleaned already – I wasn't sure what the cleaning crew would have to do, other than take out the trash. I checked the fridge – everything had been set up in to-go containers and in white paper bags with handles, ready to take home – I smiled when I saw one with my initials. That caterer certainly liked having our business

I checked in with Mr. Northman, reminding of the two o'clock call from Mr. De Castro's and got him a glass of half sweet tea at his request. That settled I sat down at my desk to continue my software tutorials. And a good stopping point, I used the ladies and started up a conversation with Nan.

"Is it always this…quiet here? I would have thought it would be busier for an office this size."

"Appreciate the quiet – when we're busy, usually it means problems. Mr. Davis – he's the chief operations officer – runs the majority of day to day subsidiaries and Ms. Ravenscroft – she's the vice-president of share holders – usually does most of the groundwork for new deals. Mr. Northman is the president and chief executive officer – in this company, he's problem solver. He takes over when there are troubles; he also approves the big changes. He also maintains the corporate infrastructure, security and what not."

"So the quiet means things are going well? And where does Mr. Ocella fit in?"

"Yes, the quiet is good – the company is very sound. Wise choices made this recession fairly easy to weather – especially because of our international investments. Mr. Ocella is the chairman of the board. To some extent, he does Mr. Northman's job for our European and Asian divisions, but he's also the final word when there are occasional disagreements between the other Executives. They avoid his involvement as much as possible – Mr. Ocella is very strict with them – he's their grandfather, and tends to creatively come up with solutions that none of them like but will still make a profit." I must have pulled a face, because she laughed. "It makes sense if you think about it. They all have to work together to avoid him and he gets less work in the long run."

I nodded and settled back to work – Russell had sent me an email back asking if I could bring in my home lap top and write down the type of wireless modem we had at the apartment – he even sent an example picture so I'd know what I was looking for. I replied back that I was fine with that.

The phone rang, the direct line to my desk, "Good afternoon, Eric Northman's office, can I help you?"

"_Hello, this is Barry in the Dallas office – I'm Stan's assistant."_

"Hi Barry, how are you this afternoon?"

"_Well enough – how's your first day going?"_

"A little hectic, but on the whole, I'd say it's been pretty good."

"_Listen, Miriam has a doctor's appointment this afternoon and won't be checking in with you – She's going to take a long weekend, so you two probably won't talk until Monday."_

"Okay, sounds like a trend – Mr. Ocella and Alessandro are both taking the weekend off. I'm taking tomorrow afternoon as well – I've got to get a new car."

"_I'm the primary on-call this weekend anyhow. Nan is taking it for you this weekend – Unless something comes up, how about I just count on talking to you Monday? I'll text or call your cell if something comes up. Stan and I will probably come out next Friday while Pam's there – we'll play get-to-know-you then."_

"Works for me – I've got my new hire physical at three on Monday – I don't know if I'll make it in after that."

"_Okay – I'll pass that on to Miriam – one or the other of us will call you Monday before two. What's your cell? I'll pass that on as well."_ I rattled off the number – it was still a Shreveport number, but that way my friends back home could call me, I had a local number at the apartment.

"_Got it – I'll cc you a copy. Have a good weekend!_" He hung up.

"You too Barry, nice talking to you…"I muttered. I wasn't quite confident enough to ask Nan about the status of phone etiquette yet.

I heard a phone ring in the office behind me – it took me a second to realize it was a cell phone – I could hear Mr. Northman's rumble and then a short laugh. He buzzed my intercom – Sookie, can you book me a table for two at six thirty at K'Pauls."

"Yes, sir" I started Googling, but Nan told me to go to his contacts – there was a direct number to the maître d. I called and made a reservation for two under the name Northman. I tried not to feel a pang of jealousy; I had no claim to this man, so I did my best to push it into polite curiosity. I told myself that I mostly succeeded. Ms. Seacrest from de Castro's office called shortly after and we got both men on the phone. I shut the door, fairly sure this was a private conversation.

I worked on my computer and updated my schedule – I was definitely feeling a mid-afternoon lull – ready to go home and relax. I got the email from Barry. He also texted me his contact info as did the other assistants. It was much easier to save it into my phone than typing it in myself and arguing with auto-correct. Mr. Northman came out forty-five minutes later and checked in with me.

"Felipe will be here next Friday – Stan will be to. Please book the small conference room and be sure it is set up with a continental breakfast and coffee, fresh flowers by nine am."

"No problem," I made the appropriate notes in my schedule and to-do list. "I got you the reservation, it's under Northman." Trying for nonchalant, I added, "Hot date?"

"Yes, with my fifty-eight year old godmother," He smirked, "but she doesn't look a day over forty. She's been in town a few weeks and I haven't seen her so she's taking me to dinner to assuage her guilt and ask me why I'm not married yet."

"If she's anything like my Gran or her friends, it won't get any easier – I think she has that talk with my brother every other week." He laughed.

"Go ahead and go on home – it's been a long day, plus you need to drop off those shoes to be cleaned." I sighed and nodded – double checking that I had the address and where it was on my phone. I went into the kitchen and grabbed my étouffée and another bag of goodness. There was still a ton left. I came back out and Mr. Northman was still visiting with Nan, leaning against the front of my desk.

"There's a ton of food in there – is anyone else taking it home?"

"No, go on and take it, I don't do leftovers," Nan said making a face.

"As much as I'd like to, I'd also like to continue to fit in the elevator. How about we leave a note for the cleaning crew – or call down to maintenance – it would make for quite the feast."

"Good idea, I'll take care of it. You go on now – I'll see you tomorrow."

I took the main elevator down. It stopped on seven to pick up another passenger. He immediately introduced himself as Bill Compton, assistant vp of technical services. I smiled and introduced myself as Mr. Northman's new assistant. He seemed a bit creepy to me – coming on to me a little, but nothing you could say that was actual sexual harassment. He probably didn't realize I knew about his baby-mama. When I congratulated him on becoming a father, he made a slightly sour face, before catching himself and thanking me politely. He didn't say much more than good afternoon when we got off the elevator – I just smiled and waved. I waved to Felicia on my way out as well. In the garage, I stowed my food and work bags behind my seat and my bag of shoes on the passenger seat with my cell and pocketbook. I quickly made my way to the shoe place. Turns out that Ms. Ravenscroft had an account with them, after checking with Nan quickly via cell (she actually said "Ms. Ravenscroft would see that as a more necessary business expense than dental coverage – go on and bill it. Bring me a copy of the receipt in the morning."), it was billed to that account.

When I made my way into the apartment – Amelia worked an evening shift at a new age book store in the French Quarter, so I didn't have to play twenty questions – Laf was standing there with a cold beer and pair of slippers, wearing my pink bedazzled hostess apron I'd made at a bridal shower years ago. He gave me a kiss on the cheek, grabbed the bags of food, and handed me the beer. He sniffed delicately, "Étouffée from Olivier's? Girl, you have the best job ever – but please tell me you did not wear those shoes to work." I took a big swig from the longneck bottle and tried not to laugh.

* * *

**Author's note: How do you handle embarrassment? Does nothing faze you or do you have things you can look back and still cringe at? **

**Thank you to all my reviewers, I really do appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think. Also, all of you who have favorited this story, me or set up alerts, I thank you. Incidentally, while I am new to the whole giving teasers thing, I do have a good one for the next chapter. I hope everyone had a Happy Mother's Day! **


	14. Chapter 14

**Please Hold – Chapter Fourteen. **

**Author's Note: So I'm trying Eric's brain on for size – EPOV heading your way, as a warning – this brain is definitely NC-17, but he does have a filter on for this chapter – I'm not sure I'll be crawling up in here often. Thanks to Ms. Merry Cain for getting this back to me so quick. **

**As always, it's Ms. Harris' car, I'm just taking it for a joy ride. **

I watched her walk out the door – the flair of her skirt making her hips' sway all the more enticing, even with those ridiculous shoes. She turned and gave a silly wave as the doors closed. After the elevator dinged, I asked Nan if there was any étouffée left.

She smirked, "In the fridge with property of E. Northman stamped on it. I'll make sure that the cleaning crew leave alone what's yours." I resisted the urge to gorge on it now – after the disturbingly erotic moment I had washing her foot, I had turned down Ms. Stackhouse's offer to get me a lunch plate – I needed a few moments to collect myself before the police interview. That had gone well and the detective was able to give me a few names of people who could possible help me with my predicament with Victor Madden. Aside from a quick call from my godmother Claudine, with a polite demand for dinner tonight – I'd accomplished a lot in solving that problem, most notably, getting Felipe to agree to my plans.

"If I might make a suggestion sir?" she asked.

"Of course, let's hear it."

"Make an itinerary of what you want to go over with Sookie tomorrow. Also, is there any reason you two aren't using first names? It seems rather silly for her to answer the phones with 'Eric Northman's office' when she doesn't even call you Eric."

"It's been crazy and she seems to like the structured formal environment. I'll put it on the list for tomorrow."

"See that you do. Are you going to explain everything, or will she not be as involved in planning your social outings as Lorena was?"

I gave Nan a withering look. "She made a few phone calls for me, I wouldn't call that planning anything, and, no, I won't have her making those phone calls." She was far too sweet-polite-pure to handle it – I'd also start routing any special packages to my home again. Lorena was nothing if not tolerant of relaxed sexual norms, although having an assistant who was not only competent but also not fucking another coworker was far more beneficial in the long run. Russell had taken me at my word to make sure she was welcomed and looked after – read not perved on by that asshole Compton. I'd love to fire him, but Edgington insists he's one of the top minds in data mining and storage. I waved Nan off and went back to my office to brainstorm. I made a list of things to go over – made a list of long term schedule items. I just couldn't get over how spun up I was over some vanilla girl with a nice rack. Granted, nice might be the understatement of the year, but what the hell. I had no idea why Claudine had insisted she was perfect for the job and that was the main reason I didn't try to get out of dining with her. I did busy work, also adding to my list as I thought of things to go over with Sookie the following day. I checked my watch and went to my en suite bath to get cleaned up and changed before making my way to my car. My grandfather had a thing about punctuality – which most would think he'd be very relaxed about, given his culture – but he'd taught me some hard lessons – including, never make your family wait when it's possible not to. Dutifully, I was out the door promptly at a quarter to six. I slid into my car – letting her rev up and purr before I headed to the restaurant. I got there with nearly ten minutes to spare, but Claudine was exiting her car at the valet ahead of me.

Claudine Coleman née Brigant had been my mother's best friend, and she took her godmothering very seriously. When mom died while I was in college, she took over all the mother of an adult role: making sure I took care of myself, did the laundry, and of course, hounded me to give her a goddaughter-in-law, naturally with a plethora of grandbabies to spoil. At this point – after years of hounding – I think the marriage part might be becoming optional as long as she got to spoil a baby. At the heart of it all was love, so I put up with it, much more than I would have from anyone else.

Claudine spotted me immediately, so I didn't have time to properly intimidate the valet before he took off with my sweet girl – I hoped he wasn't too shifty. She ran up and gave me air-kisses, but pulled me down slightly into a tight hug pressing her cheek to mine and whispering "So good to see you Eric."

I gave her a squeeze back and said, "I like to see me too." She broke off the hug, while reaching up and smacking the back of my head, muttering "Wise Apple." We both laughed out loud and made our way to the hostess station.

We were quickly seated, as this was one of our regular restaurants – we knew what to order, but Claudine insisted on a cocktail first to whet our appetite. Sazeracs it was. Claudine was fairly tall, dark haired and well preserved. She used to tell me when I was small that it was a careful blend of preservatives and cosmetics (I think she was just trying to expand my vocabulary). Having seen her sister, I think genetics play a role too. After our drinks were delivered, Claudine finally stopped with the inane small talk, and started in on her real purpose, "So you hired her right?"

"Who?"

"Mata Hari." She deadpanned, then shook her head, "That lovely young widow – I knew she would suit you."

"Well if you had called my office line instead of my cell – you'd already know"

"But I want to know from you – how did the interview go? What do you think? Do Claudette and I have good instincts or what?"

I sighed, "Yes, I hired her. Yes, I think she's going to do well. How did you even meet her?"

"You know how Claudette's husband always nagged her to do community work. She decided to get a part time job as an advisor at some junior college close to her house up in Shreveport and donated the money she made to a local food bank." She pulled a face and using her triplet's exact mannerisms and voice quoted, " 'I could have worked in a soup kitchen, but this way, I actually care about what I'm doing and the hungry still get fed and clothed.' Anyhow – we ran into her briefly at Café du Monde and Claudette introduced a week ago Tuesday."

"So you just took Claudette's word for it? And then took a week to call me?"

"No, silly boy. That's how I met her. I recommended her after I ran into her at The Shops this week."

"On Canal? She was shopping there?"

"Not exactly." I raised my eyebrows, _what was she doing then? Shoplifting?_ Claudine waved her hand, "just let me tell the story ok?" I nodded and gestured for her to continue.

"You do know that she's a widow right? Her husband died on their wedding night – can you imagine?" I knew she was a young widow, but not that it had happened that quickly. Apparently I made the right facial gestures, so Claudine continued. " Anyway, it gets even more awful – maybe not to her, I think she may see it as an ugly footnote. Her cousin was Hadley Delahoussaye…"

I interrupted at that point, "Wait THE Hadley Delahoussaye? The one who was…"

"Murdered with Sophie-Anne LeClerq by her husband Andre? Yes, that Hadley. So she's moved down here and is living in her apartment – I can't imagine, but knowing Cope – he had the whole apartment ripped out and redone within a week of the police tape being torn down."

"Cope? Copely Carmichael? The developer? What does he have to do with this?"

"His daughter, Amelia, Broadway that is – I think she took her mom's name, owns the place. Waldo didn't want anyone to feel left high and dry so he bought out the next five years of the lease and told Sookie she could stay there. This is totally beside the point anyhow – Amelia told me all this after I met Sookie when I ran into her at that Aveda spa."

_Heaven save me from gossiping women._ I suppressed an eye roll. "So what is your point? You felt bad for her? I feel bad for her too, but why send her to be my assistant – why not just ask around if someone needed a clerk?" I was feeling more than a little irritated.

"No, like I said, I ran into her at the shops. She was returning bags full of things to all the shops." The shoplifting thought passed through my brain again. I must have shown my confusion.

"She was returning all the things Sophie bought Hadley on their last shopping spree. Bless her heart. Not that I blame her – all those clothes were so tacky and so overpriced. I can't wait till you take her to Dallas with you – Pam simply must take her to Neiman's. I may fly out for that."

I was grateful when our server returned with our turtle soup – I'd have something to distract me from wanting to strangle my godmother – what was with all the rambling? Claudine had been tender hearted, but I was surprised that Claudette had gone along with this, but she'd also sent a letter of reference for Sookie. I ate slowly savoring the food. After taking a few quick bites of her soup and a pleased sigh, she put her spoon down and continued. "So, Claudette and I ran into her and Amelia – explaining to the clerk that they were willing to take store credit, as they were well past the return date, but she wanted them to take the things back. Then this trashy girl came up to her. Now I try to speak well of everyone I meet, but I've never seen such a waste of space in poorly chosen designer clothes in all my years. Sookie may not come from much, but she's had a good upbringing and it shows. Anyhow, that filthy woman started mocking her – calling her a little bitch and ridiculing her, saying she was too low rent to appreciate the clothes. She went on to say she wasn't surprised that Alcide had made her take the things back – she even had the nerve to sift through the purchases."

I tried not to bend my spoon as I clutched my fists and started looking for something to hurt. I'm not sure why I felt a repeat of the rage I'd felt when I'd heard Victor call her the same thing – it had surprised me at its intensity. As bizarre as this yarn Claudine was spinning about Sookie – I felt a level of protectiveness with notes of hostility that I'd never felt for someone I wasn't a blood relative of. Claudine must have noticed my face, "Turns out this girl – I think her family name is Pelt – Donna? Debbie? Who cares? Anyhow, she was apparently Sookie's late husband's previous interest."

I was looking for the waitress. I was sure I wanted to leave – and possibly find a predator to feed this Pelt too. Alligators are notoriously picky eaters – maybe just a giant fire ant hill would work. They may destroy a billion dollars worth of agriculture a year, but they did have a value. Claudine just continued, oblivious to my stewing, "So Sookie took a moment – I think she may have counted to ten and she very simply said, 'Oh, Alcide would have thrown a fit had I spent this much on clothes, however, seeing as I had to bury him six months ago, he doesn't share his opinions of my shopping anymore. I'd thank you to do the same.' That shut up the Pelt girl but quick. Sookie turned to the clerk and waited for her to finish the transaction and took her store credit slip, placing it in her purse."

At this point I interrupted, "Godmother, you are a light in my heart, but you've left me in the dark. Why the fuck did you recommend this girl?"

"Language, Eric!" Of course, the waitress chose that moment to bring our food. As I settled into a satisfying plate of blackened drum, Claudine picked at her eggplant pirogue. "I'm getting there – I told you not to interrupt. Now where was I? Oh yes, almost to my point." She gave me a hard stare when I muttered _finally_. "So, after she finished that transaction – she looked at Debbie. Eric – I don't think she knew – she was standing there frozen. Sookie took a deep breath and said, 'I'm so sorry Debbie; I thought you knew he passed. I wish I hadn't said that – you just had me flustered. Now, why don't you call your sister and have her pick you up?' The girl nodded and got out her cell phone and called her sister. After making sure she was ok – and by that I mean she walked her to the food court, bought her a cold drink and made sure her ride knew where to meet her – she finally walked away. Within seconds of turning the corner, she burst into sobs. Amelia, who had been along for the ride – gapping the whole time, consoled her. She turned to me and poured out the whole story to me. Finishing with her relocation here to New Orleans, she said she was looking for a job, as the one she'd trained for – to be her husband's secretary – hadn't exactly panned out." Claudine stopped talking, taking several bites. I knew she was thinking, so I gave her a moment.

"So I called you – I knew that Lorena, bless her heart and her bun in the oven, wasn't really working out for you and you needed a new secretary…"

"Assistant," I corrected automatically.

"So I told her to apply after I recommended her. "She explained, ignoring my outburst.

"What if she hadn't applied?"

"Well I suppose Claudette could have dragged her in by her ear…" I chuckled at this – remembering Claudette doing just that to me frequently as a child. The least was when I was fifteen and looking at 'dirty' magazines in her basement. She had gone on to explain the concept of discretion – an idea that has served me well in the interim.

"So what do you think of her?" She asked trying to sound nonchalant – we both knew it was a loaded question.

"She's very green, but smart and willing to work – and certainly not afraid to ask questions. I don't imagine she'll stay my assistant long – she maybe more suited to different work." I hoped I had side-stepped what she was really asking – I knew I was side-stepping it in my own thoughts.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that – I think she likes the idea of looking after one person. And you do need to be looked after, and I think Sookie is just the girl to do it – I can feel it." She paused, reflective, "She seems like she needs someone to look after her too."

I was relieved that our check came them, along with a text alert on her phone from her husband. I used the distraction to grab the check and change the subject. As we walked to the valet stand, I told her Pam and Stan were both coming next week – she made me promise to schedule a meal with the four of us, plus assistants while they were here. We smiled, hugged, and I promised to call more often as I helped her into her car. I got in my own car and took a moment to think of what to do with the rest of my evening.

I considered going out to get a few drinks and calling someone to join me – but I shook it off. I didn't need to get hammered and pound some slut. I headed home. Setting my alarm clock, I decided to go for a swim that evening, rather than hit the gym at the office tomorrow morning. I wanted to burn off some steam and I knew I'd only go to sleep if I was exhausted. When I flopped into my bed after ninety minutes of grueling laps, I fell asleep and dreamed of watching Sookie eat étouffée – as I had from the shadows of my office that afternoon – only we were very much alone in the office. Then I watched as her appetite turned to other things – and she followed a very different itinerary than the one I'd made for our meeting tomorrow. I suppose I should say I tossed and turned with a guilty, roiling stomach, but I slept like the dead.

**Author's Note: How do you handle conflict? Do you face it head on – arguing your point, use passive aggression to let your ire be known, hide your hurt, or do something completely different?**

**I'm grateful for my reviewers, everyone who has put me on author alert, and all my other assorted readers. Authors get a breakdown of who's reading their story by country – whoever you are in Guam – I think it's really awesome that you're reading my story. I also think that the rest of you who are reading this story are awesome too. I do have a next chapter teaser for those of you who review, but don't complain if you don't like it. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Please Hold – Chapter Fifteen**

**Author's Note: To my readers who don't like the flashbacks/Alcide – sorry.**

**So, I've never written a sex scene before –hopefully I pull this off. Many thanks to Ms. MerryCain who made this mess of run-ons into something readable. Thanks to all of you for reading! **

**Ms. Harris owns this corral; I'm just here for the shoot-out. **

I woke early again the next morning – not to my terrified landlady crawling into my bed, but to the delicious smell of eggs frying in bacon grease. If heaven has a scent, that's probably it. I sighed and got up. I spent a few moments brushing my teeth and taking care of other general hygiene. After taking a quick lights-on shower and opting to skip washing my hair since it still looked great, I found a sweet little navy dress with tiny pink flowers. It was sleeveless, but I had the perfect pink summer sweater and strappy pink kitten heels to go with it. I made my way out to the kitchen and gave Laf a kiss. "Thanks for making breakfast dear." He laughed and made a twirl signal. I complied loving the swish the skirt had. He nodded, approving of my ensemble.

"Take something more casual to change into for car shopping – you don't want to drive a new car for the first time in heels.

"Already covered," I pointed at the knapsack I had next to my purse.

Amelia burst in – God save me from more visitors – "Sookie, I'm so sorry, Octavia just called – she's got another flat and needs a ride – I can't let you borrow the car." It was par for the course – with all the construction in New Orleans, flat tires were an epidemic.

"It's no problem – Amelia, I can walk – thank goodness it's not super hot today."

"You can borrow my sweet ride, if you treat her right." Lafayette offered.

"Sure, I'll fill it up before we go look at cars this afternoon."

"Nothing doing little girl, already filled up before I came over the other night – only took it to the Wal-Mart."

"Then after… it's the least I can do if you're coming with me all afternoon." Lafayette's father had made him work three summers in his uncle's garage as a teenager, mostly as a last ditch effort to try and straighten him out. It didn't work, but he does know his way around cars these days. When he heard I was car shopping he suggested he come with me to check out the cars. Plus, occasionally you get an idiot who doesn't think women are capable of rational thought and it helps to have a man on your side in those situations.

I made my way out to his car and discovered that the flat tire fairy had also visited Lafayette. Of course! I ran back up the stairs – tossing his keys back while I changed into the sneakers in my bag – not my best ensemble, but it would get me to work on time. I jogged back down the stairs after agreeing to meet Laf at work at one thirty or text if I would be late from lunch. While I set out at a brisk pace, I slowed down quickly – the humidity already breathing hotly around me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~two years earlier~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time I spent the night at Alcide's house it started out with far more innocent intentions: apparently God was rethinking his promise to Noah – at least in northern Louisiana and was sending diluvian rains. It had been far hotter earlier than the weathermen on channels 4, 7, and 13 had thought, so the rain broke through at one o'clock instead of the predicted four in the afternoon. I was headed home, after getting drenched in the school parking lot – fortunately, I'd requisitioned a trash bag to keep my bag dry – which worked rather well. I tried to make another trash bag into a rain poncho, which was an epic failure. I was glad I was wearing dark colors at least – it kept me from looking like an impromptu participant in a sleazy wet t-shirt contest.

Normally, the drive home was pleasant, relaxing – giving me time to think about my day or sing along with the latest pop-songs at the top of my lungs without embarrassing myself. Today was different. I was driving home, knuckles white as I drove at least twenty five miles below the speed limit – hands glued at ten and two on the wheel – radio tuned to a local news station that was now all-weather all the time. In a flash, I realized I didn't have to drive all the way home to Bon Temps. Alcide's exit was a mile away – even if he wasn't home, he'd given me a key the last time he'd gone to Jackson. He'd taken an extended trip to make some bids and to visit his sister – asking me to pick up his paper and water his plants when I was in town. I'd tried to give it back when he returned, but he told me to hang on to it 'Just in case…' I figured this qualified so I put my blinker on early and chugged along to the exit.

The drive to his townhouse from the freeway normally took me maybe four minutes – nine tops at rush hour – took nearly thirty. I rolled the whole way, worried about the car stalling as I was convinced the water was at the level of the floor boards at times, but I made it. I was relieved to see his truck parked out in front – there were several other cars too – all parked across the circular drive that ran in front of the houses, instead of parallel to the curb. Alcide's truck was at the end, facing out, so I parked parallel, just inside the drive in case he needed to get back out. I put my MacGyver kit in my school bag with my purse and retied the garbage sack it was in. I pulled on my makeshift poncho as I rehearsed my exit from the car in my mind. I couldn't see well outside of the car because the windows were fogging over the second I'd turned the car off. I put my keys in my pocket and triple checked my other doors were locked. I chanted in my mind, 'open door while standing, pull bag out, lock and close door, run like hell' another ten times to set the plan in my brain. After a final check that I had what I needed and that the doors were locked, I pushed the door out against the driving rain – pulling my bag well clear, and pushing down the lock lever, as I slammed the door. I ran like hell only to slide into Alcide's front door. I banged on the door while I tried to get my keys back out of my pocket – which was now far less accessible now that it was under the trash bag poncho. The front stoop was small and offered no protection from the rain that was now coming in sideways. Just as I pulled the keys out and promptly dropped them – I felt the first sting of hailstones. I was cursing myself and the heavens as I picked up the keys only to see the door fly open and felt Alcide pull me inside as he slammed the door closed again.

He scooped me up in his arms and I realized he was only wearing boxer briefs – I'll admit, I was catching flies. "What are you doing here chére? Not that I'm complaining, but I'd thought you'd be hunkered down at home."

"I had class today and it is crazy out there – I didn't want to drive in this. I hope you don't mind me beating your door down." I was shivering and my teeth were chattering now that I was in the air-conditioning after being soaked through.

"No problem – I'm glad you did." He set me down in his bathroom – I belatedly realized he'd carried me up the stairs. "Take a shower to warm up – I think Janice left a few things here you can throw on until your shorts are dry. Do you need that bag?" He pointed to the garbage sack I was gripping.

"Uh – oh um, yes – I need my purse and my kit. I dug them out and set them on the counter. I set my school bag on the floor by the door, balling up the trash bag.

"Go ahead and get in the shower – leave your wet clothes on the toilet – I'll take them down to the laundry once I've found you something to wear." I didn't much care for him telling me what to do, but my chattering teeth were hurting my tongue – I turned the tub on and stepped behind the curtain to strip, dropping my things where he'd told me to. I huffed but stepped under the divine heat of the shower head. I'm not one to be wasteful, so I quickly washed my hair and body using his Suave Shampoo and Dial soap, then cut the water off, pulling the towel he'd put over the rod down to dry myself. I knew one towel wasn't going to cur it and I'd been quick, so I called out.

"Alcide?"

"What'cha need?"

"Um…another towel – this one's soaked 'cause of my hair."

"He tossed another on the curtain rod. "No problem, I found three pairs of pants that are Janice's, but nothing else, so you'll have to wear one of my shirts. You want a tee or a button down?"

"A button down," I was eternally grateful he couldn't see my blush – I was hoping for a full set of clothes – bra or tank, underpants and clothes, apparently I was out of luck.

"Sure, I'll leave a few on the doorknob, okay?"

"'Kay."

"I'll just wait for you downstairs then." I hear the awkward in his voice and cringed – I was totally intruding, but there was no way I could go back out and drive home in this monsoon. I gave myself a quick pep-talk as I heard him thump downstairs. I got out, immediately opting for the yoga pants – they were a size too big, but they had a drawstring waist. I picked the blue button down he'd left – it was a sturdier material and I deluded myself that it was far more modest than the white or pale pink options he'd left me. I combed out my hair and toweled it as dry as I could before pulling it back into a high pony tail. I applied deodorant, rush-brushed my teeth, and slipped everything back into my kit, and left it out on the counter, cursing myself for not replacing the emergency pair of panties I had used a few weeks ago. I grabbed my purse and was trying to dig out my cell as I walked downstairs.

"Alc, can you call my phone? I need to call Gran…"

"Here" he thrust the phone, my keys and some change at me, "it was in your pockets." He was still holding my wet clothes – my red bra and panty set were peeking out from the folds, an inspiring starting shade for both of our blushes. He kept talking, trying to be nonchalant, "Can I wash all this together? I quit buying red shirts after I turned a weeks' worth of socks pink." While my blush reached a crimson hue, I snatched my clothes back.

"Um, sure, it shouldn't be a problem with dark clothes – I've been dying to try out that washer of yours anyway – I always see ones like them on home shows." I quickly balled everything back up inside my t-shirt and wished there was a dark place I could go to die of embarrassment in peace.

He gave me a weird look, but I knew appliance lust was abnormal and should probably not elaborate. "Call your Gran, I'll turn the oven on – I've got some frozen pizzas. I'll show you how to work the washer when you're done."

I nodded, setting the wet clothes on the tiled entryway and pulling Gran's number up in my contacts. She picked up halfway through the first ring.

"_Sookie? Is that you? Are you alright?_"

"Yes, Gran, it's me – I'm at Alcide's hou…"

"Oh, Thank Jesus and all the angels – I've been so worried – you have no business driving in this. It's not supposes to let up until well after midnight. They're even talking about shutting down parts of I-20 down due to the high waters. I had flashes of that night…well, you know better than to drive in weather like this – I'm so glad you stopped."

I hadn't processed what she may have been going through – her son and his wife had died in a flash flood at a low water crossing off the freeway – of course she'd be panicked when I was out driving in this mess. "I'm at Alcide's safe and sound – I don't know that I'll be able to come home until the morning – I'll probably just sleep in the spare room or on the couch and figure it out once the storms passed. We're going to have frozen pizza for dinner and probably just veg out."

"You do that girl, just relax, stay inside and come home to me tomorrow in the sunshine. I love you Sookie – so much."

"I love you too Gran, I'm sorry you were so scared."

"Better to be scared than be right. I love you Sookie. Call me when you leave in the morning."

"I will Gran. Try to get some rest."

"I'll sleep like a log now. Good-night honey."

"G'night Gran." She hung up and I felt the small smile I always had when I talked to her fall. I should have called her the minute I got in the door. I shook my head – no way to unspill that milk, so no crying over it either. I turned around and saw Alcide leaning against the doorway to the kitchen; he'd pulled on a pair of tattered old jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. His hands were in his pockets and he was looking concerned.

"Everything okay chère?" He stood upright, walking towards me.

"Sure, just had Gran worried – she's okay now. Thanks for letting me just barge in like this. I've never seen rain like this and when I realized your exit was coming up, I just…"

"Shh…it's fine – I'm glad you're here." He gave me a huge hug, then relaxing his arms and softly stroking my back. "I would have told you to come straight over if I realized you were out in this mess." I sighed and nodded into his chest. My foot made contact with my soggy wad of clothes; I pulled away and scooped them up.

"So…Let's get this laundry party started!"

"Can we throw in my jeans and stuff? I got soaked too – didn't want to park in the garage – the drive to the courtyard floods sometimes."

"Sure." He grabbed my hand, putting my phone on the entry table and towing me along down the stairs.

We watched a crappy B-grade movie on the sci-fi channel while eating our pizza, flipping to watch the weather updates during commercials. The heart of the storm was headed towards us and we had the weather radio ready to go. As we watched the creature from the deep eat the screaming girl – I'm pretty sure they just used a mannequin as her stunt double in that scene, the power went out. Alcide wrapped me up in tightly in the blanket we'd been sharing and used his cell phone to find a flashlight and lantern in the closet. After putting the battery powered lantern on the coffee table, he pulled up the edge of the blanket, sliding under it and pulling me into his lap. He tickled my sides lightly and kissed my cheek. Then he kissed my cheek again, and again. His sweet pecks became slower, lingering as he moved towards my mouth, giving me a few more open mouthed kisses around my lips before planting his lips on mine. I loved the way kissing him felt. He smelled good, with simple masculine overtones. His strong arms wrapped around me, firm chest pushed against my softness. His big hands holding me close, one on my shoulder the other at the small of my back, keeping warm pressure on me as he tenderly rubbed me. His few days' growth of beard tickling my face, making my lips feel even more sensitive and swollen. He turned to sit sideways on the couch, pulling me to sit in front of him between his legs; I twisted onto my knees so our heights would match up. He pulled me close to his body, kissing my face, my neck, nibbling my ears. I slid my hands through his hair, sliding one along his strong jaw as he nibbled. I scratched my nails along his clothed bag and slide my hands down over his strong arms and back up into his hair as he kissed me deeply again – his tongue moving in ways that sent bolts of electricity out along my nerves, settling in the tightness of my nipples and the shocks deep within my core. I moaned at the sensation, he growled and pulled me closer, sliding his hands down and massaging my lower back, sliding down – cupping my bottom, kneading lightly and moving back up, his hands now inside the tails of the shirt. His warm hands felt so good against my skin and I sighed, pulling back slightly from his kisses with a nibble on his lower lip and then pulling myself tight against him in a hug. The weather radio chose that tender moment to blare and announce that the storms were moving Northeast, away from us, and while they were still causing record setting rainfall amounts the straight-line winds and tornado chances were diminishing. We looked at each other in the pale illumination of the lantern and the bright flashes of lightning.

"Sookie, I, we, not…" he said with a husky voice, shaking his head. I smiled and went in for a brief kiss. I wasn't sure what I was in for tonight, but I didn't want to stop.

He broke away from me, his hands warm hands now gripping my shoulders gently, but firmly well away from him. "Sookie, I'm trying to maintain some self control – I don't want to push you."

"The only pushing you're doing is on my shoulders, Alcide. I don't want to stop."

"Then, not here, chère – I just, not on a couch. You're driving me crazy." His forehead against mine, both of our breathing a little heavy.

"And if we go upstairs? What happens Alcide? I really don't want to stop." I knew I was blushing – all the blood in my body rushing to the skin of my face and upper chest – I was surprised my forehead didn't scald him.

"Sookie – I don't want to rush us, but I do want you – would you let me…nevermind." He shook his head leaning back and lifting me away from him, seating me a few feet away, pulling back.

I was hot now – embarrassment oozing from my pores. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I pushed – you, you'd – I mean you're not – I'm not experienced. I understand."I pulled my knees up. Not sure what to do.

He lunged forward, wrapping me in his arms, I fell back and he lay across me. "No Sookie – not that. I want you. I can't believe how bad I want you, but I want us – long term. I want more, but I really don't thing this relationship is ready for sex yet – and maybe you aren't either. I just want to be closer, but not too much too fast. Never think I don't want you chère – I dream about you…I want you, but I want it all and not just as some fling that you'll regret latter." He kissed me, "You came here, needing a port in the storm." I held my fingers to his lips and shook my head.

"Not a. Not the. My. My port in the storm," His eyes widened for the briefest twitch, then he was pulling me to him, kissing me ferociously, I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

He pulled away, panting and stood up, grabbed the lantern, keeping me locked to him and walked up the stairs into his bedroom. He closed the door, set down the light on a tall dresser and sat down on the bed. As he leaned back, he pulled me with him, resuming the deep kisses, his hands running the length of my back – with a firmer, surer stroke. We wound our bodies together, ending on our sides facing together, legs tangling. His hands sliding up the bare skin of my back – mine tangling one in his hair, another in the fabric of the shirt at his side – a finger caught in a belt loop, another stroking his hot skin. I felt his fingers slide down entering the waist band of my low slung pants. I felt a moment of panic, wishing I'd at least snuck off to put my panties back on after the laundry was done, but his tongue sliding against the shell of my ear made my thoughts scramble. He continued to ease the pants down slowly and he massaged and stroked the skin – his thumbs hooked outside. He kissed down my neck as his hands slid to the flair of my hips, licking my collarbone as he pushed them further down my legs. He nibbled the exposed skin at my shoulder as he used his legs to push the fabric further down and freeing my legs, rolling my on my back, settling his hips against mine.

He groaned as I wriggled my hips shifting his weight back onto my elbows he looked at me. The soft light and rhythm of the rain combined with the heat both of our bodies, making the world fade away. He stroked my cheek, with his knuckles, smiling at the gasping moan I released as he ground his hips against me. The washed soft denim containing –straining against his rigid body rubbed against me deliciously. I arched my back, my head tilting back as I pulled at the fabric of his shirt. He twisted and let the fabric bunch up, rolling up his back, showing me his strong body flexing and rippling gently, blocking out the rest of the world.

He jerked his hips as he reached up with one hand to pull the shirt over his head. He chuckled softly at my noises as he leaned back, peeling the shirt down his arms, then diving back down to kiss and tickle me. I shrieked and twisted, eventually ending up sitting on his legs with my feet hooked behind me over his knees. He looked up at me, not laughing anymore. As I ran my hands slowly over his face, tracing every line and feature, carefully stroking his scratchy beard, he reached up; unbuttoning the shirt that was already open enough to reveal deep cleavage until he could push it open, then up and off my shoulders. He stared, slack-jawed for a moment, running a hand gently down from my shoulder, tracing the side of my breast, the indent of my waist, the flair of my hip, stopping as his hand wrapped around my thigh. His eyes went back up, taking a more central route until they met mine. I froze – knowing I was naked and absolutely alone with a man in his bed. I had nowhere to run, no way to hide.

Alcide might seem all brawn – and he was also perceptive. He sat up, pulling his legs out from under me and quickly wrapping a sheet around me. "We can stop anytime chère. There is no set finish line for tonight. You're beautiful. I'm so glad you're here with me, but only if you're glad to be here. Do you understand me?"

I nodded, breaking his steady eye contact. He eased me to my side, spooning me. "Sleep chère – let the adrenaline burn off – we'll talk after we wake up. He pulled the sheet out from under me, arranging it over both of us. As his arm wrapped around me – his hand tucked under me at the base of my ribs, and he snuggled his chest to my back and breathed "Goodnight Sookie" into my ear. I sighed and slid into a deep dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~present tense~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My mind wandered back to the present when I realized a car was following my pace on the street. I glanced over and did a double take. A corvette was pacing me – Eric's red corvette. He quickly pulled ahead, sliding into the driveway, opening his window. "You're wool-gathering again Ms. Stackhouse – I'll never admit to saying this, but I'd prefer you do that at the office instead of stopping traffic."

I laughed, "I'll never tell."

"Get in and tell me what happened to your little mustang." I walked around the front of the car, sliding in behind first before swinging my legs in. This skirt was long, but it never hurt to be careful.

I buckled my seat belt. "The mustang is just fine. It's Amelia's – my landlady's – she had to take her boss to work – flat tire. I was going to take my roommate's car, but it had a flat too, so I'm walking. " I shrugged.

"And how are you getting home?"

"Nan told me I could go after lunch, so my roommate will hopefully get a tire repaired and pick me up so we can go car shopping."

"Fair enough." He slid the gearshift into reverse and eased out of the clutch as he backed into the street and drove the remaining three and a half blocks in silence. He waved to the parking lot attendant and stopped again, rolling his window down.

"Ms. Stackhouse's roommate will be coming by this afternoon to get her. What kind of car? "

"A white Buick Park Avenue – an earlier model." I leaned forward, smiling at the attendant.

"Have her park in Ms. Stackhouse's spot." The attendant nodded at his barked order. I shook my head – he really needed to learn what happened when you assume.

"Have a good Friday!" I called as he rolled up the window.

We shared an elevator back to the ground floor and walked to the lobby. I told him I'd be up soon, but I needed an iced coffee before facing anymore of Russell's tutorials. He chuckled as he nodded "Go try out the baker – she makes good croissants. Bring me an extra if there are any." He gave me a wave as I rode the escalator and he disappeared behind the imposing doors of R N and D with a wave.

I wandered into the bakery first and ordered half a dozen croissants, introducing myself. Darlene was friendly and gave me an extra – telling me my boss would want it. She waved off my money, explaining that the firm had an account and that I could be sure this qualified as a corporate order. I'd still check with Nan, but I nodded and thanked her again, walking across the atrium to the coffee shop for iced caffeine goodness. As I was still really early, especially, after not having to drag myself the last four blocks in the heat, I was tempted to sit down and enjoy my breakfast in the streaming sunshine. I decided against, realizing, I had had enough woolgathering for the moment – and wandering down that particular fork in the road would be dangerous minutes before I had to walk into work as a professional.

I made my way back to the office, sharing my baked goodies with Mr. Northman and Nan. He brought me my coffee, made exactly as I take it before I even had my things in my desk. He nodded at my thanks and silently headed into the office, closing the door behind him.

"Nan, the baker charged the food to the firm – is that okay?"

"Sure, he set that up with her ages ago – I think it makes him feel less guilty to have someone else picking up his breakfast if he buys theirs." I nodded and turned back to my desk. I changed my shoes, and stowed away my personal items. I logged into my computer and checked my email. I texted Laf his parking directions. I had just finished up the last of the tutorials that Russell had sent me – with a note telling me not to ask for more work before Monday – when my intercom buzzed to life. I was slightly startled – the lights on my phone showed he had been on the phone all morning.

"_Ms. Stackhouse, could you come in here please?"_

"Yes Sir." I turned and went into his office. "Yes Sir?" _Way to go Sookie – eloquent much?_

"He didn't even look up, "Ms. Stackhouse, I have to attend a meeting with Nan this morning at the law firm of Cataliades, Maimonides, and Glassport. I will have to meet you for lunch – I have already arranged a car, since you walked today. I know Ms. Hopper is wanting you to help check and complete transcript records, but I would prefer that you not work on them in the office alone, at least until you are used to the program and working the office."

"Yes, sir. Is there anything I can do while you're gone? Russell said he didn't have any more tutorial programs for me today and I don't want to do…"

"Nothing? Go ahead a wool-gather, read a book, look up celebrity gossip on the internet – just answer the phones – normal rules apply, but text me if I need to know anything."

"Yes, sir – if you're sure…"

"I'm sure – look, Ms. Stackhouse – I'll explain all of this at lunch, but until then I don't want to give make-work. You'll be plenty busy soon enough."

I nodded and went back to my desk – confirming that I had both Nan and Mr. Northman's cell numbers in my phone and searched in vain for the novel I thought I had in my bag. I also ran to the bathroom and got myself a fresh cup of coffee before they left.

I made a few lists, checked in with Gran, and decided to play minesweeper to keep myself firmly in the present. In the hypnotic trance of right, left and combo clicks, I soon found myself back in my early morning musings. Other than a quick email from Stan Davis, I was left alone with my memories and a silent phone.

* * *

I had awoken – lying on my belly, looking at Alcide – his hand rapidly sliding off my behind. Instantly I knew why – the power was back on – the snow from the TV downstairs was crackling.

"Stay here chère – just don't move, please – I'll be right back." Alcide zipped out of the room and I could hear him thumping down the stairs. I couldn't have stayed still – even if I had agreed to it. I ran to the bathroom and took care of my personal needs and realized I was still very naked in a man's en suite bath. I grabbed the pink shirt that was still on the hanger and hastily fastened a few buttons, rolling the sleeves up three times so my hands would show. I didn't even look in the mirror as I washed my hands. Part of me had no idea what I was thinking earlier, the other part was wistful for that self-confidence that seemed to have been blown away with the storm. I was sitting back down on the bed when he came bursting back into the room carrying a breakfast tray. He saw that I was up and I had lit the lamp by the bed and his face fell. I forgot my nervousness and my self-doubt and stood up.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I made you a midnight snack – and well – you've put clothes on." He at least had the grace to look sheepish.

I flushed scarlet "Well, I had to use the facilities…and I'm not sure what to do right now, but I feel like clothes on is a good choice at the moment." I didn't mean to sound so prim, but I was flustered.

He took a deep breath and nodded. He set the tray down and turned and sat on the bed. He gestured to the area next to him with a pleading look, so I sat next to him – knees together, firmly holding the shirt over my lap with my hands folded. "Sookie, I told you before I wasn't going to pressure you for anything, and I'm really not. I really like you – I haven't been on a date with anyone else since I met you. You're so beautiful. I just – I liked seeing you in my bed. Damn it, I feel like I'm a teenager. We're not having sex tonight Sookie – and not because I don't want to…Just" he ran his hands through his hair and pulled at it. "Just please stay with me here – let's eat, watch sitcom reruns and sleep. Please, just stay here." I felt humbled – I hadn't thought that he was seeing anyone else, but to hear him say it and to see the longing in his eyes. I took a moment, staring at my toes – I had no reason to feel scared, nervous – yes, frightened – no. I felt like my skin had been on fire earlier and I really was curious to explore more, but I didn't know how to say that.

"Okay – so um, what are we having for a snack then?" I said awkwardly, looking up. The way his face lit up when he heard I was staying was amazing.

"Oh, uhh, just some more of that mint tea you made and apple slices – nothing fancy. Now come here – and get under the covers where it's warm – the air is kicking back on and this room is the coldest in the house." I laughed when he pulled me to him, giving me a quick kiss below my ear and tossed me back on the bed. We snuggled up together, sitting and watching TV in the darkened room. We sipped our tea and munched on the apple slices and laughed at Lucy and Desi. Everything was fine – I was relaxed until I grabbed the last apple slice.

"Hey! I wanted that!" Alcide mock pouted at me.

"Too bad, mine!" I laughed and went to take a bite. Alcide nudged my hand away and bit off the part of the slice in my mouth, giving me a kiss at the same time. He smiled wickedly as he chewed, keeping his face close to mine. His eyes scanned my face. I giggled as I finished my slice and was about to make a snappy retort. The moment I opened my mouth, he kissed me again – passionately, sliding one hand behind my head, stroking my neck with his thumb. After a few moments, I broke away.

"Alcide…" I looked into his eyes, trying to summon some Stackhouse gumption.

"Sookie?" His eyes twinkled.

"Why…I mean…What did you really want to do up here?" I tried to fight down the blush and I had chills at the same time.

"Do you trust me Sookie?

"Of course – but what…" He stopped me with a quick open mouthed kiss to my bottom lip.

"Let me show you – you can stop at anytime. I promise I will stay clothed and I'm pretty sure you'll like this. Is that okay?"

I bit my lip and nodded. He gave me a smirking smile and kissed me again, rolling his body over mine. He laid open mouth kisses down my neck all the way to where I had the shirt buttoned, just above the center of my chest. He kept his weight off my upper body with one arm, but his hips were tight against mine – grinding his weight slowly against me. He used his other hand to unbutton the shirt slowly, kissing the flesh along the center of my torso. When he had them all loose, he nosed the shirt open and came back up to kiss my lips. He worked the shirt off my shoulders and down my arms, petting my sides down to my hips, running his fingers against my collarbones. Once it was clear of my body – he pulled it aside and leaned back, kneeling between my legs, letting his hands slide down to my thighs. I don't know that I will ever feel more beautiful than I did when he looked at me then. Watching his face, I felt like I was the eighth wonder of his world. As he ran his eyes up from between my legs back to my face he whispered, "Amazing" and laid back down to kiss me again.

He seemed to touch everywhere – touching, stroking – his hands were warm and dry. Soothing, caressing, teasing. He kissed and licked the underside of my breasts – slowly working his way to my already taut nipple and his hand strummed the other. I found myself writhing to his touch, moaning softly – blushing at my reactions but completely unwilling to stop them or him from continuing. He continued licking down my side, then tracing his tongue down the opposite side. I felt wanton and powerful and needy at the same time – I was afraid he would feel how slick I had become between my legs and pull away as his chest slid down between my thighs, but I couldn't help but buck my hips. He slid lower and nibbled my hip bones, running his hands over my behind, my outer thighs, up my inner thighs. My eyes opened wide when he began to trace my lower lips with his finger. I looked down to see his head pillowed on my upper thigh – mesmerized. He looked up at me. He rose back up over me and kissed me softly.

"Please, Sookie - I can make you feel so good…only if you want to though." His eyes searched my face. I nodded and bucked as he ground his hips down against me again. I could feel his hard length against me. I was so certain and so excited and so scared at the same time. He didn't go as slow this time, but he did work his way back down my body – touching on the highpoints especially. He paused again to trace me, leaning his head on the opposite thigh and began placing open mouthed kissed along the joint of my thigh and center. He kissed with those gentle teasing kisses all over my lady parts, occasionally adding suction – flicking his tongue at others. My arms were locked out, away from my body, twisting the sheets. I dithered between staring down at him slack jawed and closing my eyes and moaning as I tried not to buck my hips too much.

Eventually, he leaned in and using the flat of his tongue licked my slit from bottom to top. He focused at my entrance, kissing deeply while his whiskers tickled my sensitive skin and his nose nudge near my sensitive clit. His hands caressed me, running all over my legs and hips, occasionally stroking up to my breasts, pinching and petting. He brought his hands down to open my folds and tease out my clit, focusing his mouth there, licking-nipping-sucking. I came rapidly – a sharp fast orgasm that had me letting out a screech – and was ready to bask in the afterglow and let my heart and breathing level off. Alcide had not gotten that memo – he kept teasing, licking more gently, as his finger started carefully entering me slowly and shallowly – rocking and stretching. He worked his finger in more deeply, sliding his face back – watching his hand, then shifting his gaze to me. He twisted his hand and started teasing a spot inside deep inside me. As the sensation built, Alcide locked his eyes with mine – giving me a wicked smirk. After a moment or two longer, he looked back down and started to gently tease my clit with his tongue. I lost it – my legs started to thrash and Alcide put the weight of his shoulder one thigh and held down the other with the hand that wasn't titillating me. I called out his name – unsure if I wanted him to stop or continue. One of my hands tangled in his thick hair as the other pulled at my own locks. My orgasm washed over me in a deep wave, rolling –ebbing and flowing, waxing and waning until I was twitching and gasping. I hovered in ecstasy for what seemed like days. My body was so sensitive and I was sent over the edge until I couldn't stand it anymore. I realized I was pushing Alcide's face away from me. He pulled back, gently kissing along my hipbones – I was so over stimulated that my whole body twitched and he chuckled. He continued with his light kisses up my belly, and he rolled himself to lie around my side, still brushing his lips up my arm and shoulder. He skipped my neck and kissed my lips. The open mouthed caress was enough for me to taste my musky release. I kissed him again and fell back on the bed with a sigh.

"That was…"I shook my head – I didn't have the words to complete that thought – I felt like I should get a prize for stringing two words together.

"…so much fun…Thank you Sookie – I really enjoyed that." I stared at him slack jawed.

"But I – you – what about you." I rolled toward him, my hands stroking down his defined abs to his low-slung jeans. He grabbed my wrists.

"I'll be fine," I raised my eyebrows. "My memory is excellent – you have no idea how incredibly sexy you are when you come. Now – time for sleep." He gave me another gentle open mouthed kiss, before rolling me away and spooning me again.

"Alcide?"

"Yeah?" He yawned.

"Thank you – that, that was wonderful."

He kissed my neck and whispered, "It really was my pleasure chère." I fell asleep to the lullaby of his deep breathing and fingers softly tracing along my belly.

* * *

I was snapped out of my reverie by my cell phone alarm – it had been going off for a couple of minutes. I had completely tuned out – my minesweeper game timer was at 999, I may have drooled a little on my hand, and I double checked to be sure I hadn't ignored any phone calls or emails. I chided myself – I shouldn't be fantasizing about my late husband at work – ever – but especially not when I had an important meeting in half an hour.

I wiped my mouth and got out my kit to check my face and run a quick brush through my hair. My cell chirped again – Mr. Northman had texted "Get the Madden file from Hopper on your way out".

I texted back "Yes, sir" and reached for my phone, dialing down to Jannalynn to be sure she had it ready. After getting my bag together, I called down to Felicia and asked her to take over my phones. I scooted to the ladies then headed down the stairs to get the file and catching the elevator down to the lobby. I made a silent promise to make sure I always had a book in my bag from now on.

**Author's note: FYI – I'm going on vacation next week and will probably not do any writing, so I probably won't post for at least a couple weeks, but I expect chapters start coming more quickly after that. **

**Hello to my global readers – a special thank you to my Egyptian and Floridian reviewers. :) Remember – reviewers get teasers for the next chapters. **

**Random end of chapter question: Do you play minesweeper? **


	16. Chapter 16

**Please Hold – Chapter 16**

**Author's Note: So yeah, I changed my name – I like this one a lot. Here's Lunch from Eric's POV. Just as a warning, this man is not exactly what I'd call **_**wholesome**_** and he definitely thinks in NC-17. I have to credit Ms. MerryCain as always. I also had some help getting things moving from Marly from the emergency beta service (see my profile for links).**

**Disclaimer: This is Ms. Harris' Barbie Dream House; I'm just playing with her dolls.**

* * *

I tapped my thumb on the table as I waited for Ms. Stackhouse to arrive. We had taken Nan's car to the meeting; she had dropped me here before heading back to the office. Sookie had texted that the car had picked her up ten minutes late, but that she would be here shortly. I reviewed the agenda of our meeting in my mind.

One, First names: let's use them. Two, Schedule sync up, part one at least. I had a few events I wanted her to attend with me; she'd be saved my lengthy retelling and I'd have delightful arm candy that would deter the usually vultures from circling. I'd also have her schedule a shopping trip with Pam while she was here. I was looking forward to seeing her dressed to the nines and perfectly coifed. Three, Explain the cluster-fuck that is Victor Madden and how he'd get his just desserts. Four, have her blow me under the table.

I smiled as I watched her get out of the car before the chauffer could even get around the front of the vehicle. Perhaps there would be no number four today, but it was a worthwhile goal. She smoothed her dress down and looked up, smiling when she saw me. _She's so fucking wholesome; I can barely wait to defile her. Full lips, slightly shiny from the heat, hair flawlessly arranged – I can just see her naked, sweaty with lipstick smeared and hair tangled._ I looked down and reined myself in before my pants became uncomfortably tight. It's fine to have imaginings, but not mid-meeting with a new, female employee. Besides, she was a new widow; I'd let her get out there and experience the single life for a while, but she was definitely what I had in mind for my next long term liaison.

"Mr. Northman, I'm so sorry I'm late," she blurted as soon as she got close to the table.

"Think nothing of it, Ms. Stackhouse. Have a seat" I gestured to the side of the table adjacent to mine. She nodded, dropping her bag in the chair across from me and gracefully sitting with her legs crossed. "I went ahead and ordered for you – hope you like it."

"No problem, I have to be back at one thirty for the whole car shopping thing. What are we having?" The waiter chose than second to arrive and delivered the Fakes soup along with the Païdakia. She smiled and sniffed the aromas coming from the food. "Smells delicious."

"I've never been disappointed here before. Now, before we get started, I think we have been remiss about something." I could see a flash of worry go across her face. I chuckled.

"What? What did I forget? I'm sorry, sir."

"No-no Ms. Stackhouse, I keep forgetting to tell you to call me Eric. There is no need to be so formal, especially when most of the time it will only be the two of us in the office." I saw her take a quick breath, and I confirmed she wasn't completely immune to my charms. She quickly composed herself, throwing on her winning smile.

"Well Eric, then I insist you call me Sookie." She sipped at her frappé coffee, before trying her soup.

"Okay Sookie, we've already covered the first item of my agenda." I tried to keep my smile just this side of a smirk. "Moving on: scheduling. Go ahead and tell me what you have and then we'll talk about what else is coming up." She nodded and got out a large spiral bound calendar. I raised my eyebrows at this. "No digital copies?"

"I'm still learning the program at the office and I don't really like using the one on my phone. It seems like I have to keep up with several people's appointments and that's a lot to cram on a two by three screen." I nodded and shrugged; she had a point. She got out a couple mechanical pencils, holding one at the ready as she flipped through her book and started.

"Okay. Mr. Ocella is at Lake Geneva until Tuesday. I talked to Alejandro yesterday; He's taking a long weekend as well. Miriam had a doctor's appointment yesterday, but I talked to Barry in the afternoon. He's on call this weekend and said either he or Miriam would check in with me before my doctor's appointment on Monday afternoon." I nodded starting to eat my lamb chop.

"Next item: I have a Doctor's appointment Monday afternoon, my new hire physical. Nan says she'll cover my desk"

"No problem. Who are you going to see?"

"A Dr. Ludwig? Nan said she was pretty good." I nodded again. _Good Ludwig is also a birth control/STD Nazi. She'll be tested and protected. _

"Okay, um, do you want my schedule items like lunches and stuff? Or just office things?"

"If it's during the work week, it'd be good to keep me informed in case I need to schedule a meeting with you."

"Oh right, good point. So Monday: Lunch with you and the building manager…"

"Maria-Star Cooper," I supplied. "We'll eat at the café in the building, Lantana" She nodded, making a note.

"Tuesday, I'm scheduled for lunch with Indira. Ms. Ravenscroft and Miriam are both scheduled to be in on Tuesday. Do you know when?"

"Early afternoon, around two o'clock. Miriam will have scheduled the cars. We'll probably go for drinks and dinner that evening. It would be a good idea for you to attend."

"Okay, I can do that. Wednesday, I don't have anything yet..."

"Oh you do now," I interrupted. "Pam will be taking you shopping - I can guarantee you'll be out most of the day between her and Miriam. "

Her eyes went wide and she paused in the middle of lifting her fork to her mouth. "That's a lot of shopping."

"It'll be fine, plus Miriam will keep Pam from going psychotic in the shoe department; she'll handle the expenses; most of it can be claimed as a genuine need for your duties. You'll be attending several events with me and you'll need to look the part."

"The part?" She raised an eyebrow

"The attractive, competent assistant - and sometimes arm candy - it'll help me get work done if I don't have to deal with a bunch of hangers on"

She shrugged, "Fair enough. Mr. Davis and Barry are coming in when?"

"Thursday morning - count on a long lunch with all of us, followed by a meeting to strategize about the meeting on Friday morning." _The meeting on the meeting? When did my life become Office Space?_

"Sure, um, Mr. de Castro will be there? Do we need to make arrangements?"

"No, Sandy will have handled that. She'll call you if she needs anything."

"Okay, I've got a note to set up the breakfast in the conference room - it's already booked - fresh flowers? Do you have a preference?"

"I have no idea - ask Nan."

"Um okay, well that covers next week for me."

"We'll have to have an afternoon meeting next Friday to get caught up again. I imagine the meeting will turn into lunch. Get some reservations for a room somewhere for lunch. Tell them our party size may be anything from two to ten."

She nodded and made a note. "Can I ask a quick question?"

"Sure"

"Well, actually, two. My Gran would love to come by and see the office; she and I usually like to have lunch together during the week. I know next week's going to be too crazy, but is there a good day in the future I can pencil her in for?"

"Thursday would probably be best; you'll have time to reschedule if needed and it tends to be a slow day. In fact, schedule it for Thursday of the following week at eleven. We'll give her a full tour and I'll take the both of you out for lunch." That way I could get some insight on Sookie and score some points with her and her Gran.

She looked surprised, but pleased. "Sure, thanks, I know she'll love that." Our waiter appeared again. One of the best things about this place is that the staff paid attention and didn't interrupt frequently. I requested yogurt with honey for dessert. He nodded and quickly left.

"And you other question?"

"Yeah… well, what's this big meeting about? Does it have anything to do with that Victor Madden guy?"

I sighed "Yes, it has everything to do with that jävel. I'll explain that in just a minute - we've gotten through next week - I need you to know about a few events coming up first, then we'll talk."

She nodded, her face wrinkling for a moment. She may not have understood the term, but there was no mistaking that I was cursing, "Right, ok what's first?"

"There's a charity gala three weeks from tomorrow; it's black tie. I'll need you to accompany me. It'll be boring as watching paint dry without the fun of the fumes. Pam will see that you're outfitted properly for that. We'll be going to Dallas for at least a week and a half the first part of June. There are several events there. Miriam will give you the dates and the details and fill you in on what you'll need."

She nodded and scribbled a few more notes.

"Mr. Ocella will come here in July, then we'll round robin with him to Dallas, New York, and possibly back to Rome - Do you have a passport?

"Um, no, I've only ever been outside of Louisiana twice in my life.

"Well, that's your first item of business on Monday morning, get a passport."

She flipped back a couple of pages and wrote that down.

"Okay, that was all I had on the schedule front. We'll have a much bigger sync up at the end of next week, after you've met with Miriam."She nodded. The waiter delivered our desert. I waited until he walked away and sighed.

"And onto the grease stain that is Victor Madden. Tell me Sookie, what do you know about insider trading?"

"Isn't that what Martha Stewart went to jail for? Oh and I listened to this story on NPR about this Raj Rajaratnam guy - he was doing a lot of it and they totally busted him with wiretaps right?"

I was surprised that she knew about either event, more so the Rajaratnam case, he didn't get nearly as much press as Stewart did. I heard all about that one from a very devastated Pam.

"Yep, well, Victor Madden is the Las Vegas version of Raj Rajaratnam. He's done a lot of damage and has been trying to suck in other people, to use them as insiders. It's fucked up a couple of deals for me now and I need him out of the way."

Her eyes were wide and I think her jaw dropped for a second before she snapped in closed with a click of her teeth.  
"By out of the way, you mean what exactly?"

"In prison, preferably federal, for a long time."

"Is that what you were talking to Detective Bellefleur about?"

"Partially, I was asking if he knew of any really good feds in the area I could contact. I have a few in the SEC, but I think it'll end up involving the FBI as well."

"So you're going to wiretap Madden?"

"No, I'm going to wiretap R N and D. I just want to have our backs covered by the law before I really go for it."

"Can you do that?"

"It's in the fine print of every contract of every employee - I'm pretty lax about personal calls and emails, I don't care if they send a thousand baby pictures or have phone sex on their coffee breaks, but I want that son of a bitch busted" I didn't even try to disguise my anger – I wanted his head on a plate.

"We're working on a disclaimer that would automatically air at the beginning of any hold time on the phones so anytime someone's calls are transferred they will hear it. That's where you'll come in: I'll have to have you call and transfer people for me, so I know they've heard it and don't have the expectation of confidentiality."

The waiter returned with the fruit platter as she nodded. "I do that anyway."

"Good, we'll talk more about this next week, but you have the general idea of things now."

"Okay, um well that's not what I expected." She bit the tip of her tongue gently as she thought about something and nodded to herself. She reached out and dipped an apple slice into the honeyed yogurt, sliding it delicately between her lips. I needed to move my focus from her mouth. _I'll call Yvetta tonight; she's a world class cocksucker and I could use the release. Or maybe Thalia? No, she's so much work. Maybe both?_ I'd send a text out when I got back to the office. I busied myself – checking email and noting changes in my schedule to avoid watching her eating the dessert. I'd have mine…eventually.

After she finished up and I settled the tab, I called the car back and we rode in relative silence back to the office. _Yvetta and Thalia, definitely texting both. _As we walked back to the elevators, I was sure to hold doors for her and I did put my hand on her back as I escorted her into the elevator; smirking behind her as I watched the shivers run up her back. Oh yes, patience is a virtue I can possess in spades when I need to.

The door dinged and we stepped out. I walked directly through the open door for my office and sent "arrive at my suite in the W at 8 pm tonight – be prepared to stay the weekend" to the sluts I would use to hold onto my patience through the weekend. As I waited for a reply from each, I heard a muffled phone conversation that ended with "Yes, please, send 'em up. Thanks again Felicia." I stepped into the doorway to see who Sookie's roommate was. I'd met Copley's daughter a few times, but was curious about who she'd live with in her own apartment.

The elevator dinged and whooshed open. A tall black man in jeans and a fitted white tee came in, "Ready to shop, Sook?"

_What The Fuck?_

* * *

**Author's notes: Silly Eric, see what happens when you assume? What's your favorite dessert? Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. Sorry this one took so long: vacation + finally off work for the summer = lazy writer. Any readers that are fashionistas? I'm gearing up for the Pam chapter and could use some helps – feel free to PM me! **


	17. Chapter 17

**Please Hold – Chapter Seventeen**

**Author's note: So I decided to finish up Friday from Lafayette's POV – He's more fun, but harder to write than Eric (more on him after the chapter). Sorry for telling reviewers that this chapter would be up like two weeks ago – I just couldn't seem to get it together. Thanks, as always, to my beta Ms. MerryCain – especially because she had to edit this thing twice. **

**Disclaimer – this is Ms. Harris's hot rod, I'm just taking it for a profit free spin. **

Sook had texted me early that morning to park in her spot in the garage when I came in and to come on up to her office. As I was waiting in the garage for my new tire, I got another text: _BTW my boss assumes you're a girl LOL._ I did laugh. I wasn't planning on going in drag, so I just decided to be the straightest brotha I could be. Dark wash baggy jeans, pristine white tee, gratuitous gold chain, new kicks – I was set.

I had gotten there early – not sure if there would be a problem at the garage and not wanting to listen to Sookie bitch all afternoon about being behind schedule. I was about to open the glass door from the garage to the building when I saw her come in the main entrance with a man who looked like he missed lunch, giving the hungry looks he was giving my gal. I stepped into the building once they disappeared behind big wood doors. I wondered if Sookie even realized what that man was after. I'd have to keep an eye on things. Not that I'd mind eyeing all of him. _Dear Lord, thank you for the opportunity to get up close and personal with that hunk of meat. Amen._ I made my way through reception and was escorted to the elevator by a red-head flakier than puff pastry.

I walked in with my best ghetto swagger and gave a jerk of my head. "Ready to shop, Sook?"

It took all of my many, many skills to control the hysterics trying to bubble up as I took in both of their expressions. Sookie was trying not to bust her gut and I don't think she realized that her boss was standing behind her with a face that clearly said '_What the Fuck?'_

I twitched my eyebrows from him to her and she peeked back into the doorway and pulled herself together an instant before he did.

"Hi, Lafayette, you're early."

"Think I want to look at cars all weekend? Tsk, I got better shit to do." Her boss's phone beeped – I saw the same animal hungry look on his face I'd seen when he slid his hand down her back, walking into the office. An instant later, he was all business, looking to Sookie to introduce me to him.

"Oh, Ahem, Excuse me. Mr. Northman, this is my roommate, Lafayette Reynolds. Lafayette, this is my boss, Eric Northman."

He was furiously texting on his phone through most of this exchange, but he paused and looked me in the eye. "Mr. Reynolds" he said with the slightest nod of the head. If looks could kill, the one he shot me with after he bowed his head was lethal.

"Yo." I couldn't resist – I'm not any kinda normal, but sometimes it's fun to play. Sookie's eyes were watering; we needed to go before we were caught in hysterics. I'd never avoided her eye contact more. The elevator dinged behind me.

A pasty man walked in. His soft southern drawl rolled out, "Why hello, Rose. Who's your new friend?"

"Hello, Russell. This is my roommate, Lafayette." He held out his hand and as soon as he shook mine, I knew that he knew; gaydar's like that. He looked at her boss and smirked, then winked at me.

"What are you to kids up to this ridiculously humid afternoon?"

"Gettin' my girl here a new ride." I threw my arm around Sook's shoulders.

"I've been sharing with Gran and need to get something of my own." Sookie explained, her eyes clearly begging that he go along.

"Well you kids have fun – Sookie don't forget to email me the specs on your router." She nodded and dipped into her bag to write a note. He smiled and held up a laptop bag for the boss, "Laptop's here – I've got everything preloaded, just have to get your security all set up." Northman gestured that he should go into his office. He paused, staring a hole at me before disappearing inside. Sookie grabbed my hand and pulled me into the stairwell, rushing down a floor where we both lost it. We sat laughing as tears streamed down our faces, unable to speak in complete sentences for a few minutes until a wiry lady with spiky hair stuck her head in the door.

"Oh Sookie, it's just you. I thought Chuckles the Clown was on a rampage. What's up? Who's your friend?"

"This is Lafayette, Laf, this is Jannalyn – she's the record keeper here." Sookie stood up, and gave me a hand up, "Laf here is my roommate – I think he may have _surprised_ Mr. Northman."

After I stood up, I bowed over her hand, "Enchanté." She laughed.

"I imagine you did – somehow I think you may have been out of character."

Sookie shrugged, "Serves him right for assuming."

Jannalyn just shook her head and laughed again. "Well, I have an appointment up there to upload some files. I'll see you next week Sookie."

"Have a good weekend!" Sookie called up the stairs to her and then pulled me on the main floor to take the elevator back downstairs.

I waited until we were safely in my car on the way to a used car lot to bring up the elephant in the room. "Hooka', when were you going to tell me that your boss is sex on a stick and has an eye on you?"

"Shut up Laf, he does not, but he is good looking. Too bad you had to play the straight man." I shook my head – sometimes she just can't see the forest for the trees.

"I'm sure Russell has blown our cover by now…I'll flirt with him next time. Do you think he'll like blue or purple eyeliner better when I bat my eyes?" At the stoplight, I batted them for her.

She rolled hers right back, "Definitely the purple – it'll go great with your silk tank." Her phone beeped. "Yep, Russell blew our cover, but he got a reaction pic for me." She giggled and handed it to me. I glanced at it while I drove on – blond hair, but his expression was mostly covered with by a face palm. I chuckled too.

"You should make that pop up when he calls you."

"It'd be a lot less intimidating to see that as a reminder when he calls…" She sighed and looked out the window.

"Is he being mean to my Sookie? Do I need to turn this motha'fuckin' car around and kick some big blonde's gorgeous ass?" I half joked. I'd kill the motherfucker if he hurt her; she's just getting her life back together.

"No Laf, I'm just not sure what I want or what I'm doing half the time. It'll work out." She slapped on a smile. Sookie had always believed that she could turn around a day with a smile and a subject change, but I let her off the hook.

"So, the guy at the garage this morning, his name is Tray, gave me the name of the lot. They don't always have a great selection, but they're cool with letting us take the car out without a sales guy – just have to leave our Drivers Licenses. And Tray said he had no problem with putting the car up on a rack so I can check it out." I didn't tell her that he knew Alcide and I wasn't planning on bringing it up, nor was he. Sookie need a nice afternoon off followed by a relaxing weekend, not a rehashing of fresh wounds.

She raised her eyebrows, "Making friends already?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Bitch-please, he had a guy there that used to work for Uncle Benedict and he recognized me. And unless I'm having an off day, my spidey senses tell me he's even straighter than your boss."

She laughed at that. We spent the afternoon checking out rides and she found a Hyundai that was a couple years old that suited her. It needed a better radio and a new dome light, but other than that it was in good shape. She was sold on it still being under warranty. I could handle repairs for her, but I think she liked knowing it was covered. If she let me stay in that sweet house, I'd buy the damn stereo and install it for her. I understood why she wanted to wait to be sure. She and Tara had shared a tiny ass apartment for about a week before she moved back in with Gran. Friendship was more important than independence then, but now she had no place else to go.

I talked her into going out with me that night. I figured a drink or two and some ass-shakin' would put her in a good mood. I'd already talked to a few friends about taking her out and they'd be there to help her have fun. I figured if we were test driving cars that day, she could try test driving dating – I reckoned with a gay man she could have a good time without too much pressure to 'get back out there' or whatever nonsense. She shook her moneymaker and had a few more than two gin and tonics, but she was still laughing when we got back to her apartment and climbed into bed. Sleeping through any hangover she might have earned, she joined me for lunch with her real smile – just a little turn of the lips, but I hadn't seen in a long time.

**Author's note2.0 – So, a lot of you were disappointed with Eric. He's cool with waiting, but since he knows waiting sucks, he's having a little fun. I don't begrudge him and Sookie won't either. We won't be getting graphic with his weekend. It's going to take a while longer for them to get it on, I mean together…Thanks for your patience! **

**I find it so amazing that people in the Southern Cone, Slovenia, and Singapore are reading this…I do appreciate you taking the time to read. Special thanks for everyone who is reviewing. It's a nice little ray of sunshine to get those. **

**Oh – chapter question: Do you like gin & tonics or do you have a different favorite adult beverage after a long day? Would you rather just listen to music or shake your groove thing? **


End file.
